Roger and Rhonda stiffened noticeably, but held their thoughts. Jackson, BB, Jason and McLeod kept silent, though several quick glances were exchanged.
“Copy that,” said Marty.
“Copy,” managed Cody, before his voice thickened too much simply from being chosen.
CHAPTER 7.17-Starkes at the Mill
“They left probably yesterday at dawn, ma’am,” said Major O’Malley.
The Superhawk had settled into the main yard of the Youngstown steel mill thirty minutes or so after first light. A five-man team guarded the Superhawk. GT, Scott, Mickey, Captain Daubney and Tim McDonald carefully canvassed the area while the rest of the team set up shop. Nicole fed CJ near the scattered remnants of an old campfire while she glanced about at the extensive drivel and trash left behind.
“Phoenix’s entire army must’ve camped here for at least a few nights,” suggested Nicole, “Look at the garbage.”
“I see that, Nicole,” said Colonel Starkes, “Yeah, they left quite a mess, the pigs. I think that stink hole over there was supposed to be the latrines.”
Both Nicole and Colonel Starkes covered their noses as the wind reminded them of the stench.
“Now I see why your team’s setting up so far away from here.”
“Oh, yeah,”
They made haste moving away.
“Damn, Phoenix is on the move again,” said the colonel.
Amanda exited the helicopter carrying her Remington and slowly walked toward the secured central area of the mill. Weak, but gaining strength fast, she ignored the occasional glances from the woman named Nicole. She hadn’t spoken to her since the colonel’s introduction at the pre-dawn briefing. Tired and weak beyond anything she’d ever experienced, Amanda pushed each leg forward, shoving another huge slice of five-year cheddar into her mouth. With concentrated effort, she tracked the embossed, metal direction plates bolted eye level at every juncture inside the mill. After a few more turns, she found herself at the heart of Furnace #1. And, like the rest of the mill, the furnace area was deserted other than piles of garbage, as if many men had simply used the place for what it was worth and then moved on.
“I’m here, Mac. I made it,” whispered Amanda, “A bit late, I guess.” Sensing movement behind her, she turned to see Scott catching up, practically rushing to her side like a newborn puppy. Saying nothing at his arrival, they each took their time walking around the furnace and then into the deportation storage bays that housed a huge supply of rusting, stacked steel. Easing her hips against the steel billet edge, Amanda’s shoulders slumped. Scott dropped to his knees before her and took the opportunity to check her left leg bandage. She made no complaint as he drew down her pants and checked the dressing on her left thigh. Satisfied, he stood and slipped her pants into place, rebuttoning her jeans.
“You’re all good.”
“You’re a fantastic man, Scott.”
“Nonsense.”
“You are.”
“I’m just here to help you find your people, that’s all.”
“Yeah. Well, you’re incredible.” Amanda softly stroked the tiny bulge of her belly, drifting into deep thought. She wondered about bringing a newborn into this world. She worried about Mac and Marty. For some reason, she recalled the black and white photo from an art show she attended back in college. The photo was of an elementary school swing set, taken at close range to capture only the swing set seats. The first seat was clear down to the scratches and wear marks. The galvanized chain-link attachment points were pitted and worn. The remainder of the swing set seats faded in clarity and melted into the grayness of the rainy day when it was taken. Saddened by the image, she wondered if her unborn child would ever have the luxury of such a school and the laughter of other kids.
Scott let her fade away as he watched her soft, gentle strokes to her belly. Colonel Starkes approached.
“They’re gone, Amanda. If Connor Mac and company were ever here.”
“I’m sure they made it here.”
“Hmmm—”
“If you knew Mac, you’d never doubt him.”
“Yeah, well Phoenix’s men weren’t far behind him and hard on his ass. Based on the mess we found, who knows? I’m wondering if maybe they captured your team and are dragging them back to Cleveland.”
“Hah! Fat chance. Besides, we flew in that way and would’ve flown over the army.”
“True,” agreed Colonel Starkes, “I’m glad you’re keeping track of things.”
Amanda pushed off the steel and took a few steps to stand closer to the colonel. She wiped her hands from the rust. “You have anyone here can tell how long before this Phoenix army left?”
“We’re working on it.”
“Alright.”
“As it stands, right now, Shamus insists they left yesterday, maybe the day prior.”
“The civilian pilot?”
“Hah. Yeah, him. The civilian.”
“He knows his shit?” asked Amanda, interested.
“Ma’am? Can I step in here?”
“Yeah, please do. Go ahead, Scott.”
“Shamus is with me, Amanda. Before we joined up here with the president.”
“Yeah?”
“Shamus and GT are my best friends since middle school. We do everything together. Have ever since.”
“Okay.”
“Shamus is the smartest man I know. Military trained. Truly. He says something, you listen. I trust him with my life.”
“You do?
“Unquestionably.”
“Okay.”
“Amanda, that’s why we brought Shamus, GT and Scott with us,” said Colonel Starkes, “They possess a whole slew of special skills the army’s used once or twice in the past. They travel as a trio.”
“Oh, I see… I think.”
“In the meantime, don’t let those puppy-dog eyes right there fool ya.”
“What do ya mean?”
“Don’t go thinking that Shamus, GT and him right there are simply civilians.”
“I meant no offense.”
“None taken. But they’re formidable wolves, ex-military, walking among the sheep.”
“Oh.”
“Truth be told, they’re a triple threat and a tightly-guarded national asset that’s served Uncle Sam on some tricky assignments. Isn’t that right, Scott?”
“Ahh, ma’am, c’mon, we’re just a bunch of guys that like to tinker with ’copters and boats. You know that.”
“Hah. Yeah. That’s right. That’s all Seal Team Six does.”
Amanda caught the deep respect conveyed by the colonel. There was at least some element of awe about it as well. She studied Scott in greater detail, but in a new light. The thick, dense chest and arm muscles, slim waist and gazelle-like quadriceps suggested a man of effective power and control. Scott’s muted intensity, when engaged in the current conversation, spoke volumes that he was more a man accustomed to action not words. Again, she felt humbled that she’d warranted his unwavering care and attention during her convalescence. She moved to stand in front of Scott, gently invading his personal space.
“Thanks again for taking care of me, Scott. I’m in your debt.”
“My pleasure, Amanda.” Scott beamed and blushed at her attention, before backing away and giving Colonel Starkes a rather intense and meaningful stare. It was clear he’d rather keep his military history out of any discussions. He turned to leave.
“Scott?”
He turned back to face them. “Yes, ma’am?”
“I’m real sorry, but we can’t be playing anymore tiddly winks at the country club right now.”
“Understood.” Scott continued his walk back toward the helicopter. He did not look back.