Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“Something’s supposed to happen here on September eighth.”

“Source?” asked Phoenix, instantly alert.

“Luke was able to sneak within thirty feet of the northeast perimeter guard posted last night.”

“Luke Killington or Grabel?”

“Killington.”

“Alright. A good man. Go on.”

“He heard that Colonel Starke’s expecting somebody September eighth.”

“No kidding? Reinforcements?”

“No, sounded like there’s just one guy coming. Luke thinks the guy’s name is something like Connor or Connor Mac.”

“One man?”

“Yep.”

“What? Was he separated from their unit before they came here?”

“Didn’t sound like it.”

“Get Luke. Bring him here.”

“Yep. He’s right outside, hold on.”

Larry Reed slipped the penthouse door open, waving Luke Killington in with a subtle nod. Once in the room, they walked together across the plush carpet to stand at the wall-to-wall windows. Already at the window and deep in thought, Phoenix lit a thin cigar, staring below at the rooftops of downtown Cleveland. Both men near him waited a half-minute for him to acknowledge their presence.

“Go ahead, Luke,” said Phoenix, “You have my full attention.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Start from the top. From the point when you heard the discussion.”

Luke was twenty-one and fiercely battle tested in seven bloody skirmishes he survived the past few years. Rail thin and wiry, he had an intensity that reminded you of a wolf who hadn’t found food for the past week. Point in fact, he was one of Larry’s infamous “Pride Brigade” that helped keep the city in line; was known to be a ferocious competitor in the annual Cleveland mixed martial arts combat games. And, he was the best of the human trackers they had. Phoenix had become quite impressed with the man the past year, so much so, that he was considering some way to assign much greater responsibility to test the man.

“Yes, sir. Sims and Marco, of Starkes’ unit, were covering the northeast guard post last night. Their usual overlap routes let ’em meet up three times an hour, always varying time and location. Kept at it most of the night. Good discipline, but once, at around three o’clock, they chatted for a bit.”

“Yeah?”

“Centered ’round a guy called ‘Connor’ or ‘Connor Mac’ and the fact that they’re waiting ’round for him and would he show.”

“They know him?” interrupted Phoenix.

“No. That’s what confused me, at first. It’s like they’re expectin’ him to show up like he was invited or somethin’. Said somethin’ about San Francisco, but I didn’t catch it all.”

“And?”

“And they said that they were wondering if Starkes was gonna decide to stay much longer if he didn’t show up on the eighth. That was the date they said. Said it twice.”

“September eighth.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Anything else?”

“Not much. But, Sims seemed impressed with the guy. Said he hoped this Connor Mac showed up ’cause he wanted to see ‘what such a bad ass is like in person’. But, Marco stepped in and said ‘not to believe everything you hear’ and they started talking about Cindy, Rachel, and Luanne down at the goods store and how they were… you know comparing notes.”

“Anything else?”

“Just that Edgars, the black-haired guy with the missing left ear… well, they thought he was distracted and ‘seriously looking to nail Suzie’, you know, Suzie Hoffman the…”

“That’s all, Luke?”

“Yep.”

“Okay then, Luke. I’m impressed. Good job.”

“Thank you.”

“Larry, see to it Luke is given an added 600 RCs this month.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Luke.

The generosity of Ration Credits was the equivalent of six months pay.

“That’d be all, Luke,” said Larry.

The watched the young man leave. Larry went to the wet bar, lifting the lid of a mahogany humidor resting on the granite countertop. Taking his time, he extracted a Royal Jamaican Buccaneer and, surprisingly, found it still moderately fresh. Waiting patiently for Phoenix, he lit it. He did not have to wait long.

“I’m impressed with Luke. He has an allure and ferocity that seeps out despite his best efforts to keep it hidden. He’s a hunter-killer all the way. Anyway, what’s your take on this new guy Luke’s talking about, uncle?”

Larry took his time before answering, choosing instead, to twirl the cigar in his hands. He slipped the cigar beneath his nose, appreciating the scent and his eyes followed the smoke trail towards the ceiling.

“Starkes has a man coming from out west and I’m thinking they picked the Hall of Fame as an easy, recognizable rendezvous.”

“One man?”

“Yeah, I’m thinking one man at this point,” said Larry Reed.

“Why? What for?”

“I dunno yet. He must have something they need.”

“Yeah, obviously, but from what Luke said, they were talking a ‘bad ass’. That can only mean they’re trying to add him to their current military strength,” said Phoenix.

“Maybe. Makes some sense that they might need all the help they can get—”

“Go on.”

“But, that don’t make total sense. Too much energy and effort. Don’t you agree?”

“Yeah, I do. Doesn’t fit with my current assessment. The way I see it, I’m pretty sure Starkes came out for that kid and that ghost image of a woman, Nicole. That’s my take,” said Phoenix.

Both men sat thinking; finally, Phoenix spoke.

“But, why the hell did they chose to sit here for the past two weeks waiting for this guy Connor Mac to show up?”

“Yeah, does seem kinda strange.”

“Strange is right. Man’s important somehow. But, there’s more to it, I’m sure.”

“Well you’re the big thinker, Phoenix. I’ll let you figure that one out.”

“You think Starkes is gonna try to take Cleveland?”

“Phoenix, no offense, truly, but if Colonel Starkes wanted to take this town, she’s certainly not going about it in any sensible way. Hell, she’s left herself practically wide open for counterassault for that matter.”

“Yeah, well remember what I said before, don’t underestimate Starkes. That Bitch probably knows her shit.”

“I agree.”

“You think we can take ’em down and grab this Nicole and her child… um, CJ is it? At the same time?”

“Who? Starkes?”

“Yeah, uncle… Starkes.”

Larry relit his fading cigar, taking a contemplative drag. He blew a deep cloud of blue smoke toward the windows, watching it cascade in waves against the glass before answering.

“Yeah, I guess that’s possible. I’ll have the men ready by Friday.”

“September sixth.”

“Correct.”

“What do you need from me to make it happen?”

“You wanna do it?”

“Yep.”

“Then just the green light… and, maybe a chit for each man for one night access to the Pound after the mission.”

“Okay, done. But, I’m thinking we wait another day. Take ’em down on the seventh, late evening around midnight.”

“Why wait until then?”

“I want to make sure nothing else is going down beforehand, understood? Keep the men sniffing around. Expand the perimeter. Toss out a 200 RC for the first man to locate this Connor Mac, if he does, in fact exist.”

“Sure, I will.”

“Remember, I need at least Colonel Starkes, Major O’Malley, Nicole, Shamus the helicopter guy, and the baby CJ alive . That’s non-negotiable. We clear?”

“Yeah.”

“And I want that ’copter real bad. Try to keep a few other men alive if you can. The rest are expendable.”

“I’ll make it happen.”

“Good. I want you to take some time to figure specifics and lay out your plans for me after lunch.”