Paul Kirk - Devastation Point

The Superhawk sat parked on a makeshift heliport atop the building roof. Five men guarded the rooftop around the clock. Fresh from surveying the perimeter and helicopter, the colonel was becoming a bit impatient.

“Scott?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your take on her comin’ around?”

“I dunno, ma’am. She’s coming around a bit. Starting to do some mumbling today. That’s a good sign, I think. The infection in her leg wound and her fever pose an ongoing challenge. Give her another day or two and we’ll know.”

“We’ll do that. Not that I have much choice.”

“Go ahead, ma’am, ask the question.”

“Alright, I will. How’s the baby?”

“Cassie says the baby hasn’t aborted and that the woman’s only in toward the end of her first trimester. She says the infection in her thigh shouldn’t hurt the baby at this stage.”

“Another baby. Can you believe it, Scott?”

“Yeah, we’ve got more than we hoped for coming out on this little adventure, huh?”

“Yep. Let’s hope she comes outta it, though.”

“Of course.”

“In the meantime, you need some sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s an order.”

“Understood, I will.”

“I mean it, Scott. I do”

“Yeah, I know. ‘Night.” Scott forced his head deeper into his sleeping bag, closing his eyes. Convincingly, he appeared asleep in seconds. Satisfied, Colonel Starkes strolled down the side stairs to the second floor, spotting the major speaking to several men and a few natives near a folding table in the center of the room. She waited near the stairwell for an opening in the discussions and then slipped to the major’s side.

“How’s she doing?”

“Same. Maybe a bit better according to Scott.”

“He’s still awake?”

“No, I ordered him to sleep. Cassie kicked him out, he’s sleeping nearby, right next to the door.”

“Huh. That man carries loyalty to a new level.”

“He sure does. Glad he’s on our team.”

“I hear that.”

“Shamus and GT should be proud to have had him as a friend,” suggested Colonel Starkes.

“Oh, they are, ma’am. Hell, they’re just as loyal to him as he is to them.”

“I’ll bet.”

“There’s some serious history with those three. I’d love to know more about it.”

“Right. There is that. When you know more… let me know.”

“Huh. It’d take a nuclear bomb to separate those three for any length of time.”

“Hmm—”

“It’s uncanny.”

“Speaking of your friend Shamus, what’s he saying about all this?”

“Ma’am?”

“C’mon, major. What’re you and Shamus focusing on at the moment?”

“Umm—”

“Dammit, you have a green light for speculation. Go. Where’re you two putting your brainpower?”

“We’ve secured enough fuel and established a safe haven, and mostly restocked supplies. As a result, we’re wondering about checking back in on Phoenix. You know, to see what’s up.”

“A huh.”

“Maybe settle a few scores. If we can.”

“Hmm, it’s funny how you two think. That’s my thoughts exactly.”

“Ma’am?”

“What? You think I have no urge for revenge?”

“No offense, ma’am—”

“C’mon, don’t get your panties in a bunch, major. I’m just pushing your buttons.”

“Oh.”

“How about you and a few men make a recon run to check in on that bastard for me? Would you?”

“Phoenix?”

“Are we talkin’ about someone else?”

“No, ma’am.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Okay. I’m on it.”

“Pure recon at this point, understood?”

“Okay.”

“Check that… if you have a clear shot at the bastard, don’t let me stop you. Or, if you so chose, when you’re fired upon.”

“Understood.”

“But don’t go looking for a fight, hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You know how critical that bird is to our return trip.”

“Of course.”

“Have at it, major. In the meantime, I’m going to check in on CJ and Nicole.”

“Sure. Right.”

“I’ll give them your regards.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Colonel Starkes left the floor. Chest heaving slightly in excitement, Major O’Malley felt a surge of pride in serving such a fine commander.

“Rory made it back an hour ago with a report, Phoenix.”

“Rory?”

“Yeah.”

“Who the fuck’s he?”

“Umm, he’s the young upstart we found comin’ outta Toledo a year or so back. Full name’s Rory McDonnell. Redhead sporting a Mohawk. Serious attitude. You remember him, don’t you?”

“Hmm…”

“You nearly put a bullet in ’im when he first showed up.”

“Oh yeah… the tough, skinny little bastard who took out five men when we caught him stealing those two horses?”

“Yep. Not so skinny, but, yeah, him.”

“If memory serves, you pressed the issue not to kill him when we caught up to him. Why’s that again?”

“Well, because I found out he was a trained Navy Seal and could be pretty damn useful if we could turn him to our ends.”

“Did we?”

“Seems like it today.”

“Talk to me.”

“How ’bout I bring him in and let him speak for himself.”

“Sure, uncle. Sure. And, let Rory know if I don’t like what he’s saying, I just might kill him where he stands.”

“Ahh, okay.”

Reed opened the penthouse door. Nodding, the two huge bodyguards signaled to the smaller, muscular man who stood nearby, letting him enter the suite. Calmly, Rory McDonnell strolled through the doors, self-assured. Not slowing down, he made his way straight to the wet bar, as if he owned the suite. Passing Phoenix, he smiled, but continued in his efforts to fix himself a drink.

“I’ll shoot you, you fuck, you touch my good liquor.”

“Well, so shoot me, Phoenix… go on then.” Rory poured a generous tumbler of Wild Turkey barely glancing at Phoenix or Reed. “Look at that, we got ice!” he yelled. Satisfied after tossing in a few cubes from the bucket, Rory toasted no one in particular and took a long, deep drink.

“Uncle?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me why I haven’t shot this asswipe yet.”

“Umm, because he knows the whereabouts of that third party involved in the firefight.”

“Right. Yeah, that’s right!” Phoenix snapped his fingers. “Okay. Sure. Then, I guess I’ll just shoot him after we hear what he has to say.” Phoenix pointed the barrel of the Judge in the direction of the small, muscular, red-haired man.

Gauging Phoenix’s reaction, Rory halted his third deep sip of the Wild Turkey. “You mind pointing that piece of shit Judge somewhere else?”

“Yeah, I’d mind.”

“Hah! I guess I better give you some street cred, Phoenix, before you up and shoot me.”

“What?”

“Gotta give you some credit. You built Cleveland into a workable town these past five years. Mighty admirable. Heard about it all mostly second hand, ya know, ’cause I’ve only been hanging for a year.”

“Huh?”

“But, gotta give you that, no question… you da man … plus, you built a community here that cracks a solid effort at sustenance and control. Though a bit overbearing at times…”

“What are you rambling?”

“You da man, see? And, you’ve got a decent formalized and well-armed paramilitary unit in excess of 600 men set up under your direct control nicely broken into effective “Pride” brigades, trucks and cavalry which is, perhaps, the most impressive.”

“Yeah?”

“Though, now that I think on it, I’ll have to knock that count down about fifty or sixty or so men.”