Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“I’m sorry we couldn’t stay longer, commander.”

“I understand, ma’am. Connor Mac could probably use your help right about now.”

“We’re hammering ’em, sir. They’re in that little offshoot about five hundred yards up the road. Over.”

“I see that, Luke. How many of ’em are there? Over.”

“There’s about ten or so, sir. Over.”

“Are there any children? Over.”

“No, sir, not that we’ve seen. Over.”

“They probably sent them ahead to the top of the mountain while they’re trying to slow us down. Keep hammering ’em, Luke. You’re getting the job done. Over.”

“Yes, sir. Over and out.”

“Hold on, Luke. Are you there? Over.”

“Yes, sir, I’m still here. Over.”

“I’m coming up, Luke. Keep at ’em until I get there. Let loose anything that you and Commander Kaiden feel will knock their asses on the ground. Phoenix out.”

“Roger that, sir,” said Luke, smiling at the devastation the front line was unleashing against the small enemy force. A fifth RPG hit a building near where he suspected the sniper was. Beside him, the fifty caliber continued its deadly barrage.

“What’s next, Luke?” asked Kaiden.

Luke didn’t hesitate—he smelled blood. “We press our advantage, commander.”

“Okay. How?”

“Commander, those are your men laying there on that road. Go get those pukes who killed ’em.”

“Yes, sir,” said the brigade commander. He readied the remainder of his cavalry for a full push up the mountain road. His men had stayed on their mounts, waiting for the go signal. The commander prepared his men for a full assault. All thirty-three in the second planned wave looked eager to revenge the deaths of their comrades.

“They shot our horses, commander. That’s just not right,” said one of his men.

“That sniper don’t know that, Taz. We’re gonna tell ’im. Listen up!” he yelled to them. “We will not stop until we take that outcropping. Do you understand ?”

There was a chorus of agreement. It sent a tingle up the commander’s spine. He knew his men were ready to do some real damage and he mounted his own horse and turned it to face the trucks and the enemy beyond. With a determined flair, he pointed his M-4 up the hill. “We take ’em now!”

He burst from the cover of the trucks without knowing if his men were following and spurred his horse into a full gallop. His horse weaved through the bodies of its fallen brethren without slowing and continued up the road. He heard the yells of his men and their horses not far behind him. He smiled and let loose a battle cry that echoed across the ravine.

“Good luck, Kaiden,” whispered Luke.

Larry Reed and Phoenix arrived a few seconds later at Luke’s position behind the trucks. Phoenix ignored the cautious warnings of his two personal guards and strolled to Luke’s position. There was little fire coming from the enemy sniper position and Phoenix tasted the imminent capture of at least part of the pesky Rat Pack.

“Look at that cavalry, Luke,” said Phoenix, crouching beside him and staring at the back of Kaiden’s advancing brigade.

“We got ’em, sir.”

“It seems like it, Luke.”

“Dobbin’s cavalry unit is ready to go, sir,” said Larry Reed.

“Excellent, uncle. Send ’em now. They’re angry bastards and whoever Kaiden’s cavalry don’t finish, those boys will. They won’t be denied.”

“Yes, sir.” Larry Reed raised the radio to his lips and began issuing orders. He smiled at the sheer volume and force of men and machines hidden behind the curve of the road. He was no longer worried about a reserve force—energized, he was caught up in the brutal force he had at his disposal. He appreciated the steady drone of the fifty caliber and its deadly rhythm.

“Once they’re past the trucks,” yelled Phoenix, “start sending the men on foot along the sides of the road behind him. You hear me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“They have nothing left up there, uncle. We’ll have their balls on a plate before you know it. Our men are pissed—they lost too many of their friends over the last few days. It’d be nice if we could kill ’em more than once.”

“I agree. This is gonna be like shooting rats with an elephant gun.”

The trucks had begun their advance behind the cavalry, both groups safe under the constant fire of the fifty caliber and intermittent RPG launches. Phoenix’s awareness of the power he held was intoxicating. He knew nobody survived such devastation.

“That’s true, uncle. It would be overkill if he wasn’t such an annoying little rat.”

As Phoenix appreciated the battle unfolding, the image of Renaldo shooting him came unbidden to his mind. The pain in his foot surged at the memory and he hoped that Renaldo and Gabriella were away from this brutal annihilation, safe and available for capture later in the day. He had plans for them both. He had plans for any other survivors of this infuriating Rat Pack. A surge of pleasure tingled in his groin and he slapped Larry on the back, yelling to ensure he was heard.

“Let’s grab the truck. Come with me—we need to follow the horde before they get too far outta control.”

Luke had followed the men in a truck and Larry Reed issued final orders to him over the radio. He made it clear that losses weren’t a concern as long as they took the picnic area. They were nearing the end.

“Okay, everyone, listen up,” said John McLeod. They had slowed their pace dramatically to compensate for the increasing elevation of the roadway and John was having some trouble catching his breath. He glared at Mickey who was barely breathing hard. The boys were sweating, but not winded.

“Let’s take a minute here,” said John, indicating a couple large rocks on which to sit or lean. Rice was tucked low by the guardrail, searching downrange for enemy targets. Seeing them stop ahead, he settled low and waited for them to move again.

Rhonda dismounted from her horse and helped Gabby from hers. She looked a question at Jackson. “I’d like to get down, ma’am,” he said, “but I’m not sure I’d make it back up without a lotta help.” She nodded and turned to the rest of the group. Sadly, her eyes fell upon the unmoving body of Burroughs strapped across the back of her horse.

“This’ll only take a minute, Jackson,” said McLeod. “Other than taking a rest here, I want to discuss our strategy for gaining entrance to the gates. Since those gates are in sight, they see us now and are probably discussing exactly how to treat our small unknown force.”

John regarded each of them. “There’s a possibility that we won’t even make it to the gates—they might shoot us before we arrive. But we don’t have any choice—we need their help. BB needs their help. Marty needs their help. Connor Mac needs their help. Edgars and Daubney, they all need the help.”

He took a short drink of water. “Okay, I caught my breath. Let’s push forward—I’ll walk and talk at the same time.”

Mickey lifted Gabby to the saddle in front of Jackson before helping Rhonda into her saddle in front of Burroughs’ body. Her horse nodded its head in minor defiance, but calmed at a touch from McLeod.

John began the uphill climb again with a slow and steady pace—he didn’t want to be winded when he began negotiations with those behind the gate. “The trick to this is to find someone who knows Mac’s name and to convince that person that Mac and his men are in trouble. The sounds from below will certainly emphasize that point.”

He took another pull from his canteen, swished it in his mouth, and spit it out. “We’re all armed, except Gabby. Nobody should be holding their weapon in a threatening way—we need to approach in a manner close to pleading.”