Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“What else?” asked Colonel Starkes. She was finding it much easier to look at him directly.

“Perryopolis is best known for its brew. They have a very tasty ale they call Momma’s Best . I have —”

The colonel interrupted. “Hmm, a real nice story, lieutenant. Keep in mind, though, that I’m looking for more crucial details like their defensive capabilities, weapons strength, training initiatives, offensive capabilities—you know, minor fuckin’ details like that.” The gathered group laughed at the colonel’s raw request for appropriate information. Everyone laughed except Lieutenant Wahlberg; each of Keenan’s men relished the control the colonel had in the face of their comrade. His good looks and easy charisma had always given him an easy advantage with any women they met; several of the men kept a close eye on their girlfriends when he was around.

“Umm,” the lieutenant blinked several times, not used to being interrupted by a woman.

No matter where the lieutenant was—in town, on the mountain, or anywhere else—he never had a problem finding a woman to warm him on a cold night. Some women warmed his bed on more than one occasion despite knowing he was simply using them for the night. Until today, Major McLoy’s crew had never seen a humble expression from the lieutenant. Colonel Starkes recognized the man’s discomfort and smiled mischievously at Major O’Malley. She decided to push the young lieutenant. She wanted to demonstrate to the gathered men that she knew how to run a man’s army despite her feminine physiology.

“Lieutenant? You do have a working brain that goes along with your good looks, don’t you? Tell me you have more information than the details of their beer sales. Tell me you didn’t already shoot your wad with the last tidbit of mostly useless information.”

The crowd of men gasped at the audacity and began laughing. Amanda and Nicole burst forth in laughter, so much so, they each held the other for support. Refusing to grin at the fun she was having, and frustrated at the situation, Colonel Starkes slammed her hand onto the map. “I need answers dammit!”

Wahlberg cleared his throat. “Yes, ma’am. The town rotates four snipers who guard well-fortified gates—one at the north end of town and the other at the south end. Both are on Route 51. The commander keeps a minimum of two armed men carrying M-4s and shotguns on each gate tower at all times, night and day. They have assigned watchers on each gate. Two additional armed men walk the bottom of each gate as relief.”

“Continue.”

The blushing lieutenant absently scanned the room, searching his mind for additional details to satisfy the woman. “The people in town train for assault once a month. The assault is expected mostly to come from the north, toward Pittsburgh. Everyone’s involved, even the kids. It’s a full drill and every person in town has a set of specific tasks. They have a decent armory there along with a command post and they had started making homemade explosives when I left. The plan was always to defend the town at whatever cost. But, the commander was experimenting with an evacuation scenario when I secured his permission to leave.”

“You had to get his permission?”

“No, but asking his permission was the right thing to do. The town took me in when they didn’t have to and quickly treated me like one of their own. When I asked for the commander’s permission to leave, he only made me swear I’d never be a part of an assault against his town.”

“Thank you lieutenant, that will be all,” said Colonel Starkes. She turned to her second in command. “Shit!” She knew the small town would be entirely consumed by Phoenix’s stronger force. “We have to let them know to run, major.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Major O’Malley. “I’ll have Shamus power up the bird.”

“They won’t run, colonel,” said Wahlberg.

“Then, they’re dead already, lieutenant.” She gathered up her map from the table and left with Major O’Malley by her side. The group parted as she made her way to the door. Major McLoy and Captain Dawson followed.

“Ma’am, I need to advise my command on these developments. You know, that we found you. If you’re planning on taking us with you to Perryopolis, what’ll we do with our horses?”

“Hold the thought, Keenan,” said the colonel. “Major, can you c’mere, please?”

The major hurried over. “Yes, ma’am? Shamus is almost finished with his pre-flight check—what do you need, colonel?”

“I need your thoughts on what to do with these men and their command. Major McLoy needs to provide a report to his superiors.”

“Let’s give him what he needs, colonel.”

“You’re sure, major?”

“Yes, ma’am. They’re good men, colonel. I like what they tell me about this Mark Harmon guy. And they also speak highly of Commander Bastin—he’s in charge of the Summit gate and their commander.”

“Yeah. Okay, major. Why don’t you fill him in?”

“Of course, colonel.”

Colonel Starkes motioned for Keenan and Dawson to join them.

“Gentlemen,” began Major O’Malley, “what the colonel and I are about to tell you will remain strictly confidential. Do I make myself clear?”

There were acknowledging nods from both the men.

“You can pass this info onto your superiors,” continued Major O’Malley, “but there’s no reason for your men here to know who we’re looking for yet. We’re trying our best to keep a lid on this.”

The men nodded again, their somber expressions showing their understanding of the severity of the moment.

“Major McLoy, before you call your commander, I have to ask you a question. Do you know a Colonel Connor MacMillen?”

“Who? No.”

“I saw your hesitation, major. If you don’t know him, you certainly know of him.”

Keenan knew he wasn’t much of a liar. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and decided continued silence was the best course of action.

“Keenan,” pleaded Major O’Malley, “we’re on the same side here. I’m trying to locate Colonel MacMillen as a matter of national security.”

“Colonel MacMillen?” answered Keenan. “Not sure I ever heard the name before.”

“C’mon, Major McLoy, it’s obvious MacMillen is someone you know or at least have heard of.”

Keenan looked quickly at Dawson who was having better luck keeping his face devoid of any signs of recognition. Excited, Colonel Starkes detected something in his facial expression that suggested otherwise.

“Alright, Major O’Malley! We’re finally getting somewhere. Listen, you two, we need to know where Colonel MacMillen is going.”

“Keenan?” asked Major O’Malley.

“Yeah, Mike?”

“You realize the President of the United States just asked you a fuckin’ question?”

Keenan turned his back on Major O’Malley, took a few paces away, stopped, and turned to face him again. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but you’re gonna hafta give me some more information before I tell you anything I know.”

“Is that right?” asked Major O’Malley, barely controlling his anger.

Keenan was not intimidated by the display. “Yes, O’Malley, that’s fucking right. I have personal loyalties that run deep on the mountain. Friends and family up there come first—they always have and they always will. I don’t mean any offense to either of you. I need to update my commander.”

Colonel Starkes smiled and walked to Keenan’s side. “Major McLoy, Captain Dawson—would you two follow me please?” She turned and headed back to the heliport’s business office and the men followed. When the four of them had entered the empty room, the colonel let the door close and pointed through the windows of the office. “Do you see the strawberry-blonde with the baby?” she asked Major McLoy.