Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

“Bitch hits hard, I’ll give you that.”

“Whoa, watch your mouth! Cleo’s liable to come back and finish the job. And besides, she’d enjoy knocking you around some more.”

“Yeah?”

“You’d be dead she wanted you dead. Truly. Ain’t that right… Cleo?”

“Get the fuck on with it… Skel.”

Amanda presented the image of raw Airborne competence. Confident, she stared at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame through binoculars. Marty pushed the young “ghost”.

“What the hell is going on here? Huh? We come passing through Cleveland and come into some piss-ass firefight about to go down? Is that it?”

“Ahh…”

“We don’t want none of that! For real, we’re only wantin’ some solid food and a couple fast horses that can take us to the east coast.”

“Ahh…”

“I’ll tell ya, we got business to attend to there out east, wanna get there fast.”

“Hmmm.”

“What did we walk into here, Ghost?”

Ghost studied Marty atop him. It was fairly obvious he liked to hear his nickname repeated and his demeanor changed slightly.

“I dunno.”

“What you mean you dunno? Huh? You’re a top-notch sniper and you don’t know?”

“I’m—”

“How can we glide past here without getting screwed? This is Cleveland, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s the food supply and some horses for me and Cleo? Can you help us get the fuck out of here?”

“Ahh,” said Ghost.

“Just kill ’im Skel. He’s worthless,” said Amanda.

She left the window, approaching with an obvious intent toward further cruelty. Her rifle was pointed center mass, her hand on the trigger; it had the desired effect.

“Hold on, Cleo! He’s mine for now. Okay? Keep an eye out for shit, would ya?”

Quickly, Marty turned to face Ghost.

“Listen, dude. I’m not up for killin’ ya like we did your partner, you know? I’d rather have some food in me and… hey, you wouldn’t happen to know where I can find some decent whiskey?”

“Umm—”

“Hey? Maybe Cleo and me can help you guys out, Ghost. You got some good food and whiskey lying around?”

“You’d have to talk to Larry or Phoenix ’bout that.”

“Who’re they?”

“They run Cleveland.”

“Oh. Okay, I will then. How ’bout you take us to them?”

“Okay.”

“In the meantime, what’s going on now out there? I’m thinkin’ that somethin’ over in that building there’s in for a terrible kaboom.”

“Well…”

“C’mon, Ghost, we’re friends now, ain’t we? I ain’t killed ya have I?”

“I dunno. Well, maybe if you let me up.”

Ghost made an effort to rise beneath Marty. Marty relented.

“Oh, sure. Sorry ’bout that. I admit I’m seriously hungry and focused on finding some food. Haven’t eaten good in a week. Even all them rats is lookin’ good lately.”

Marty stood, helping the young man rise. And, in a show of good faith, he returned his rifle to the young man, silently confirming with Snuff that she’d removed the five bullet cartridges from the magazine.

“So, Ghost, tell me, what the hell’s going on?”

The young man moved to the window, taking a moment to analyze the increasing activity below. As they had trained, Phoenix’s men were massing on each side of the main doors to the Hall of Fame, but back away from the front staging area until the go signal was called. All preparation for full breach entries were converging and Ghost knew there were other Pride Brigades prepping in reserve on each side.

“Well?”

Ghost turned to Marty and glanced warily at Snuff.

“That’s the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame over there…”

“Alright?”

“We’re taking it tonight!”

“Taking it? What do ya mean? Really?”

“Yeah.”

“But, why?”

“See that helicopter?”

Ghost pointed left. The helicopter was easy to notice beneath faint spotlights on the retrofitted landing pad.

“Yeah, I see it. That’s what got me interested in snooping around here in the first place.”

“That’s the official helicopter of the President of the United States.”

“What! He’s here?”

“Yeah. But, it’s a she now and she’s been here for weeks.”

“What the hell? We got a woman president now? What’s the world coming to Ghost? What’s she doing here?”

“Don’t know. Waiting that’s for sure. But, we’re takin’ her and her men down tonight. There’s twenty-two of ’im.”

“No kidding?”

“Yeah, I ain’t shittin’ ya… and there’s some woman and a baby we’re not to touch.”

“A baby?”

“But we’ll get… when we’re done… umm…”

Ghost quickly glanced toward Amanda.

“Get what?”

Marty prodded, moving closer for a conspiratorial discussion.

“Umm…”

“C’mon, Ghost. What’d you get if you capture the woman and baby?”

“Ahh…”

“C’mon, are we new friends or not?”

Marty let a slightly steel edge slip into his voice. Ghost whispered to keep Amanda from hearing.

“We each get a nights use of the ‘Pound’.”

“The Pound?”

“Yeah, the Pound .”

“What’s that?”

“It’s where… it’s where they keep… all the pretty woman. You know. For the men.”

“No shit! A whorehouse?”

“Well… I guess, sorta. A pretty nice one, yeah.”

“Oh, man! You think they’re some prettier than Cleo over there?”

Ghost risked a surreptitious glance toward Amanda, still standing at the window studying the buildup of men. Pointedly, she turned with annoyance in her eyes, but not before Ghost snatched a full glance at her face and scanned the long, lithe curves of her hips and buttocks. He blinked, swallowing hard when she shifted slightly in her camo pants.

“Umm, I dunno… maybe… I don’t think so.”

“Where can you find me some food, man?”

Ghost refocused on Marty.

“If you help me in taking out those roof snipers, I can almost guarantee you some good food and those horses you want.”

“Good deal! That’s what I need to hear. When do we start?”

Ghost checked his watch.

“We start at midnight.”

Marty settled the Colt into Ghost’s right eye.

“Do we now?”

“Andy, that was some real serious shit that just went down.”

Slowly, Terry and Andy walked toward the cottage.

“Tell me about it, T.”

Several concerned clan members had made their way from the cottage along the main gravel driveway after the shotgun blasts. But, they were moving calmly, updated by the perimeter guards.

“You knew something about this Spider guy beforehand?”

“Nah, nothing but what Ry briefed me on. Though I did hear the name once or twice back in the day. Obviously, I put the pieces together when that same piece of shit came to sit right there out on the blacktop.”

“Oh.”

“More importantly, thanks for trusting me out there, T.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Terry was noncommittal.

“I’m serious! I don’t know if you realize it or not, but that little incident went a long way to you getting the unconditional respect of all our men in the woods. You know, the true warriors of this clan. Including Ry.”

“Hmm…”

“I know you went up a notch in his book.”

“I’ve had each man’s respect before that, Andy.” Terry bristled at his comment, anger evident.

“Sure, T. Yeah.”

“But?”

“But, now they know they can trust you to adapt and respond to a real combat situation. They know you can lead by letting others lead when it’s called for.”