“So, you planning on taking over now?”
Andy calmed, trying his best to communicate his perspective.
“C’mon, T, you know me better than that. I hope you do… I’m just trying to help you out when I think you might be going all ‘woman soft’ on the men of this clan.”
“So, you’re not pullin’ some bullshit move on me?”
“Never, T. We’re a team. I’m yours and I’ll back you up ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent of the time.”
“Huh.”
“But, you’d do even better if you took my advice once in awhile.”
Terry buttoned her jeans before edging closer to Andy. Zipping up, she leaned her head into his chest, looking up to study his eyes. Seeing his concern, she softened considerably. Terry’s breathing gradually slowed.
“Understood. Point taken.”
“Alright, that’s good.”
Terry gently lifted her hand, resting it on Andy’s bare chest. Absently, she twirled her finger in his chest hair.
“So, what might you advise, right now, smartshit?”
Slowly, Andy wrapped his arms around her bare back before he let them slip to rest upon her hips. He pulled her tighter and whispered.
“Well, I’m thinking we might have fifteen, maybe twenty minutes before dinner.”
“And?”
“I’d like to show you the new bruise I have after killing that fat man. Bastard packed a punch. Can’t believe how lucky he got.”
“Huh.”
“Maybe you can kiss it and make it all better.”
“You’re a sonofabitch, you know that?”
“Take off those damn jeans before you lose ’em permanently.”
“But, I just put them on.”
“Take ’em off.”
“No, you do it.”
“Yeah, I think I will.”
CHAPTER 5.12-A Connection Made
“That’s you they’re referencing on that paper, Mac.”
“Yeah, I’m seeing that, McLeod.”
Connor stared into the distance, thinking. By now, the entire crew had gathered around the porch steps.
“But, why?” asked Marty.
For a moment, no one responded.
“You have something they want, Connor Mac,” said Rhonda, softly.
“Or something they need to know about,” added McLeod. “Maybe some special military op that had something to do with H5N1?”
“No. Nothing like that, John. I don’t think. My job, the last four years before the Sickness was training men for Special Forces combat. I have nothing to do with it, H5N1, black ops or not.”
“Think on it, Connor Mac,” said BB.
“Don’t you think I’m doing that?” Connor abruptly stood, pacing in front of the porch steps.
“Copy that, Mac,” said Marty. Thinking hard on the ramifications of the president’s letter, he was unaware he had spoken aloud.
“You have something or some knowledge, that they want, Connor Mac, simple as that,” said Rhonda.
“Meaning?”
Before answering, Rhonda sought her husband’s vote of support. Roger nodded, since over the years, he’d come to rely on her perceptiveness; he’d always valued her ability to pinpoint the crux of any issue.
“Meaning, you have key knowledge or some special skills or ability that the existing President of the United States desperately wants. See, it’s obvious from the letter that they’re expending a great deal of effort trying to track your whereabouts and, by some serious persistence, somehow they figured out you were near Toledo.”
“How the hell could they do that, in this day and age?” asked Connor, “I just don’t understand it.”
“POC,” suggested McLeod.
“What?” asked Amanda.
“Point of contact?” asked Marty.
“Yeah,” confirmed McLeod, nodding.
“Makes sense, that’s the way they found him,” suggested BB, “no doubt.”
“What do you mean?” asked Rhonda.
John McLeod stepped off the porch, gently taking the letter from Connor’s hands. Glancing at it before responding, he was deep in thought. Seeing the interest in reviewing the letter, Amanda passed around the duplicate copies from her pocket. Jackson, Jason and Jude read the letter together.
“They tracked Mac by his human contacts, following his trail across the United States,” said John McLeod. “Wow, in thinking on that, it sounds like a helluva logistical feat… I can’t imagine the resources and brainpower that must be involved.”
Rhonda nodded and continued with his train of thought.
“I agree, John. And that’d explain the blunt paper tracking mechanism. It’s the best they could do, though, I can’t quite figure out how they might’ve even done that. Something in the air, most likely? As it stands, there’s no radio communication anymore, is there? There’s no electricity to speak of, right? Besides, who the hell’d they talk to? How? And, in any event, before that matters a hill of beans, we need to know about this existing president and the ‘why’ that they’re going to all the trouble.”
“Yeah,” muttered Connor, “Good questions, Rhonda.”
The crew sifted through the implications surrounding the change to the day’s events. Connor shook his head and stood.
“Damned if I can figure it out, guys. This is screwed up is what it is.”
“Me neither, Mac. That is, if you’ve truly have nothing to do with the Flu or no knowledge in what the hell happened,” said McLeod.
“I’m tellin’ ya, McLeod! I got nothing to do with this shit,” said Connor, exasperated.
“But, there’s something you have going on, Connor Mac. I know it. Why else would they go to all the trouble?” asked Rhonda, “How many of these did you find, Amanda?”
“Four so far,” interrupted Cody, proud of his discovery.
“I wonder how many we’d find? Across what dispersal area?” asked BB.
“Hmm,” said McLeod, thinking hard, “Dropped from above? Interesting thought…”
Connor turned toward Rhonda, continuing their conversation.
“Rhonda, please remind me to find out what the hell you did before the Sickness, would ya? And, yeah I can see your reasoning, but damn it, I have no clue why they’d be making the effort.”
“Think on it, Mac. C’mon, you’ll figured out why,” suggested McLeod. When no immediate solution was put forth, the crew began to disassemble, each lost in their interpretations of the strange letter’s impact. They knew at least some decision would be made once all avenues and options were fully explored. That is, until Amanda jumped off the porch railing demanding their attention.
“Hold on, guys! Hold up! I think I know why they’re coming after ya, Mac.”
“Snuff?”
Gathering around, the crew watched Amanda. She walked to Connor, slipping her arms around his neck, before hugging him fiercely. The crew waited. Turning to face them, she softly slid her hand across her belly.
“Everybody knows that I’m pregnant. So, I’m thinking they want Connor Mac, because he can still make babies.”
“You’re, right!” said McLeod. He immediately grasped the feasibility of Amanda’s crazy suggestion. Jason jumped into the conversation.
“Yeah! Now that you mention it, that would make some sense. That’s right! I’ve not seen any young kids running around the past four or five years. And, we’ve seen plenty of the country and tons of people in our travels, haven’t we, Dad? Remember? We even talked about that same thing a few months back.”