Connor nodded, pointing toward the Liberty Bridge. “Several of those bastards on the Liberty Bridge will have to go down first off. They’re way too close for comfort. Head or chest. That is, if you can manage it.”
“Copy that.”
“Take at least three or four to slow ’em down. Wake ’em up. Then go after the main cluster of Phoenix’s forces over on the other. I’m thinking Phoenix’s still most likely over there.”
“Understood.”
“You need me to help you and BB on this one?”
“No, this will be taking candy from a baby.”
“Wow. I can’t believe that Cleveland army is comin’ after us,” said Connor. He was fast absorbing the fact that his team had been in some jeopardy, unknown to him, for quite some time. He would not make the same mistake again.
“Someone must have pissed them off or something,” suggested Marty. His grim smile said clearly that he’d like such an event to occur again.
“Now who’d go and do a thing like that?” Connor placed a gentle hand onto Marty’s shoulder. They shared a moment of remembered pain.
“Someone who’s gonna make ’em pay in more blood… for Amanda… and her… your…”
Connor lifted the binoculars again to his eyes, interrupting him. “Don’t miss, Surf Boy.”
“Yeah, I never do.”
CHAPTER 7.19-A Map at the Mill
“I found Mac’s message.”
“Where?” asked Colonel Starkes. She and the major stopped eating chicken MREs.
Standing near the makeshift arrangement of steel plating where dinner was set, Amanda held a small white paper in her right hand. “It was hidden behind that red-lettered sign that was next to #1 Furnace.”
“What are the details?” asked the major
“Mac and my team are making their way to Pittsburgh. He says that he missed hooking up with you, Hannah.”
“Uh, huh. Go on, Amanda,” said the colonel.
“He made a map. They left two days ago.”
“Does the map include his final destination?” Colonel Starkes was elated, hopeful.
“No, just a place on a Brownville Road in Pittsburgh.”
“Pittsburgh?”
“The map says it’s at 910 Brownsville Road.”
“Why there? Do you know? Was this a secondary rendezvous?” asked the major.
Amanda lapsed into hard tears, her shoulders shaking deeply. Scott, speaking with Shamus while breaking pallets into firewood a few yards away, arrived at her side, daring the colonel to say a word about it. Gently, he wrapped an arm around her.
Colonel Starkes approached slowly, concerned. “Amanda? Talk to me, please.”
“Mac… he thinks I’m dead.” Amanda’s tears flowed freely.
Scott smoothly took the small note from her and passed it to the colonel. Reading the note quickly, she flipped it over to study the crude map and agreed. Connor MacMillen did assume Amanda was dead. In fact, the note suggested no one was expected to find it. And, based on the content, it was, in a sense, more a testament to pain and loss. Bringing the major and Scott up to speed, she read the note aloud:
Snuff, if you’re reading this then I’m way beyond ecstatic. You’ve come this far. You’re a survivor. We left. Sorry for not waiting longer. I’d love to hear how you survived. Surf Boy told me a hailstorm of bullets was flying and that you went down hard. We waited 8 days, 3 past the rendezvous window. Perhaps the president is with you. Please give her my regards and tell her I apologize for missing the meet. Can’t say we didn’t try, huh? But, the team’s on the move now. I have my primary mission to consider. Know that I love you. Know that. Take care of our son. Or daughter. Here’s a map. It’s a trip to a little secret place where I plan to regroup and resupply. Get there if you can. We’ll see you if you do. We’ll wait some there, if we can.
Colonel Starkes handed the map to Major O’Malley. “Major, see to our departure. Bring Nicole over here when you’re done.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The major left immediately to speak with Shamus.
“Amanda?” asked Colonel Starkes.
Amanda’s head was buried into Scott’s shoulder. She was now crying uncontrollably.
“Amanda!” snapped Colonel Starkes. Her command voice had the desired effect. Amanda stared at her through bloodshot eyes, roughly wiping tears with her sleeve. Scott patted her gently on the shoulder and left, returning to Shamus, GT and the major talking animatedly at the helicopter.
“We’ll get you back to him, Amanda. It’s as much my mission as yours.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just that…”
“No apologies needed. Stay on task. What do you know about this new rendezvous point? This 910 Brownsville Road?”
“Not a damn thing that I can think of.”
“Nothing? No reference point? Connor never talked about it?”
“No.”
“A code?”
“I’ll have to think about it some more.”
“You up to it now?”
“I guess, yeah.”
“Let’s think this through. Maybe Nicole knows something.”
“Okay,” said Amanda.
“In the meantime, let’s find you something more to eat.”
“Thank you.”
“If we figure this out now, we might continue our pursuit of Connor MacMillen today with the remainder of daylight still left,” suggested Colonel Starkes.
“I see.”
Amanda looked past the Colonel’s shoulder, tracking the two big men moving toward Colonel Starkes with Scott in the lead. She knew the two men as Scott’s friends, Shamus with the pointed goatee, and GT who wore thick black glasses and two full sleeves of tribal tattoos. GT was hastily wiping his hands on a gray rag and tucking it into his back pocket. From the main camp area, Major O’Malley returned with Nicole who had CJ in her arms.
“Ma’am?” asked Shamus. He stood before the colonel, waiting.
“Hey, Shamus. Guys. Can it wait? We got a pressing matter right now.”
“Umm…” Shamus looked to GT who shook his head.
“No, ma’am. Don’t think so. It’ll probably have some impact on your actions if I understand the emerging situation.”
“What is it then? Problem?”
GT stepped forward, clearing his throat. When GT was uncomfortable, things weren’t good.
“Aww, shit, don’t tell me, GT.”
“Ma’am?”
“What’s wrong with the bird?”
“Umm…”
“Just give it to me, GT.”
“The tail rotor driveshaft hanger bearing is about shot. From the looks of it, it’s scored fairly deep in two places.”
“Shit.”
“We don’t have a replacement.”
“Not the fuck now… not now… what’s that mean?”
“Means we need to return home with minimal deviation and no side missions.”
“Anyway to fix it?”
“Sure. Find me the part.”
“And if we don’t?”
“The rotor might seize up and then we’d have… a serious navigation problem.”
“How come you’re only finding out about this now?”
“Downtime maintenance checklist.”
“Meaning?”
“It’s only a routine checklist factor on the H-92 at 600 hours of flight time.”
“I see.”
GT was angry. “Thing that pisses me off is that, usually, you can get at least near twice that amount in flight hours from that bearing based on the over engineering built in.”
“Huh,” said Major O’Malley.
Colonel Starkes closed her eyes for a few seconds.
“But not this time,” said GT.
“If we fly in it again, will we crash?”
“Not necessarily, ma’am,” said Shamus chiming in, “We stay low and know what we now know concerning the bearing deficiency, I’ll bring her down fast before we lose most flight control.”