Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“Yeah, our team’s likely responsible for the explosion, but don’t you think that indicates they’re holding their own, major? Those men are extensively trained. They can certainly handle a novice army for a little while longer. Besides, like I said, they’re likely busy with evasion and misdirection protocol. In the meantime, I want to see what havoc Phoenix has perpetrated against Perryopolis.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You seem skeptical, major. It’s worth the trip to find out anything of value. If anyone’s alive there, they should be a treasure trove of info.”

“Understood, ma’am.”

The smoke became denser as they neared the town. But when they edged closer, it was apparent there were only two buildings fully destroyed and those were in their death throes, skeletons smoldering. The buildings adjacent to the two burning were brick and appeared to have sustained minimal damage.

“Do a slow fly-over, Shamus. Head toward the southern gates. Everybody, eyes open for unfriendlies. Major?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Have your team scoping the buildings while the Professor flies over—weapons hot. This is not permission to fire—we’re looking for friendlies that might still be alive. When we touch down, I want you to take Major McLoy and his men with you. Take Scott and GT, too.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Remain stationary for a moment, Professor. Then head toward the south gates and then do a 360. Pick a safe landing spot on the northern edge—one we can vacate quickly.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The fly-over from the north sector revealed no further movement. A few dead bodies, or rather, what was left of them, were seen near the doors of the burning buildings. The gates on both sides of the town were wide open, yet showed no evidence of having borne a recent defensive battle. Both gates were formidable, but were simply open for ease of passage. Other than the open gates and the two burned buildings, the town appeared to be mostly intact.

“I think Phoenix’s army just blew through the town,” said Scott.

“Yeah, it doesn’t look like they took the time to destroy much of anything except those two buildings,” said Major O’Malley. “It doesn’t look like there’s been any skirmishes right here. Does anyone see any turf battles inside the gates? Any bodies besides those near those two buildings?”

“I got nothing,” said GT. The others simply shook their heads. “It’s very strange.”

“I agree,” said Scott. “Let’s hope they all got out alive.”

“Is it possible Phoenix dragged them into a building and killed ’em all at once?” asked Colonel Starkes.

“Doesn’t make any sense, ma’am,” answered Major O’Malley. “We woulda seen some evidence of a defensive struggle. Everything I’ve heard about Commander Del Re leads me to believe he wouldn’t give up without a fight.”

“Yes, major, good point.”

“On the other hand, colonel, there are two buildings burning. When Phoenix came through here, he was shootin’ at something, don’t you think?”

“Good question, but we’re not sure how this played out.”

“Ma’am! Look! About fifty yards beyond the southern gates,” said Shamus excitedly.

“I see,” said Major O’Malley.

“Yeah, I see ’em, Professor,” said Colonel Starkes, “I count at least nine dead men and four dead horses.”

“My count, too, ma’am. Looks like they were killed by weapons and not explosives.”

“More dead men and horses,” said Shamus.

“Yeah. More dead men and horses… after they passed through town. Hmm, I’m beginning to form a clear picture.”

“Ma’am?”

“Hold on, major. Professor, do another fly-over—slower this time.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The second fly-over of Perryopolis yielded no additional information. All the colonel saw was pure ghost town.

“Colonel! Professor!” yelled GT. He was staring out the bay door window and scanning the area. “Tango on our nine o’clock, ma’am. There’s a man running through the field toward us.”

“Yeah, GT, I see him now,” she said, focusing her binoculars on the lone figure.

“Target located,” said Shamus into the intercom.

The man stumbled and went down hard during his run. The colonel watched him rise to his feet immediately and continue running toward the helicopter frantically waving.

“Hover beyond the northern gates, Professor.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered. When the rotors dipped and the helicopter began to move toward the man in the field, the man stopped, thinking perhaps this was an aggressive move. He held his ground for a moment before he continued his run. He closed the distance, untucked and billowing shirttails fluttering as he moved.

“He’s carrying a weapon, ma’am,” said Major O’Malley. “It’s in his waistband.”

“Okay, Professor, drop down and offload the major, GT, Scott, and Keenan’s team. Treat this man gently, major—he’s likely a friendly—but make sure you find out his intentions.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Professor, once they’re all on the ground, pull this bird back outta range. Major, find out what the hell’s going on and relay the information back to me immediately.”

“Roger that, colonel.”

The Superhawk hovered off the turf and the jump from the deck was no more than a couple feet. Shamus waited five seconds for the men to clear the rotors and expertly lifted the helicopter to a hovering position a hundred yards away and spun the helicopter to watch the pending interaction.

Major O’Malley, GT, Scott, and Keenan’s team made their way to the running man, closing the gap quickly. When they were fifty yards from the man, they stopped and assumed a firing position. “That’s far enough, mister!” yelled Major O’Malley. “We’ll shoot if you come any closer!”

The man stumbled once more and stopped forty yards away. He had wild black hair, in remarkable contrast to his bright white shirt, and from this distance, it was easy to see how heavily the man was breathing. He placed his hands on his knees and took deep gulps of air. Major O’Malley began to slowly close the gap and his men followed, matching his pace.

“Who are you?” asked the major. “What purpose do you have flagging us down?”

“I’m…” He held up his hand as an indication of his need to catch his breath. After a few more seconds, he stood upright, straightening his shoulders and trying his best to appear non-threatening. “I’m Commander Italo Del Re,” he said, still breathing heavily. “I run Perryopolis.”

“Okay, Del Re, remove the handgun from your waistband slowly and place it on the ground.”

“Are you serious? I’m no threat to you guys. Where the hell were you when that army cruised through here about two hours ago?”

“That’s him, major. That’s Commander Del Re,” offered Lieutenant Wahlberg.

Major O’Malley held his hand palm out to Wahlberg without taking his eyes from Del Re. “Humor me, commander. And watch how you talk to me or I’ll take that gun from you and beat the shit outta you with it.”

“Okay,” he said, understanding he would have to gain this group’s trust, but impatient with the delay. He slowly removed his Python and placed it gently on the ground. He moved several feet away from the weapon, hoping this would be seen as a show of good faith.

“That’s Commander Del Re, major,” repeated Lieutenant Wahlberg.

“Wahlberg? Is that you? What the hell you doing here? With them?”

“Commander,” said the lieutenant, nodding his acknowledgement.

Del Re took a closer look at the men around him. “You’re Keenan, right? A major, I believe. And I recognize you, your name’s Evan something. You guys come here for beer every once in a while. You guys know me,” he said, frustrated at their perception of him as a threat.