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Freedom Forged

Page 7

by Alan Austin


  He lifted his ass up and pulled his pants back to his waist before climbing to his feet and buttoning his shirt. He had no time to button his vest as Grease was already back in her clothing and moving forward. The movement of men ahead was clearly visible against the backdrop of their campfires, but they were all moving toward the distraction and no one would have eyes out toward the field from where they were approaching. By the time they were passing the outlying tents, the camp looked all but vacant. The occasional guard was still moving about, but they were easy to spot and avoid. It was less than a minute from the edge of the camp to the door of the General’s mobile headquarters and home.

  Grease held her gun tightly and swiveled her head from side to side, on guard for anyone who might find them as Ticks got to work. Pulling the watch out once more, he couldn’t avoid looking at the time before he extracted the lock pick kit from the side. With the pin tool and a small extension from the watch itself, he began working the pins into the correct position as he cranked the lock to the side, feeling it click slightly as each pin allowed the slightest of twist inside the chamber.

  Ticks had briefly questioned whether what he’d just experienced might distract him, but he had the door open in near record time and realized that he was grinning from ear to ear the entire time. When the door clicked open, Grease turned back toward him and saw his goofy expression. She just smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek before saying, “You’re going to give us away the second we get back to the gang, aren’t you?”

  They both entered the vehicle and Ticks found a lantern to see by. He went to work rifling through drawers and cabinets to find as much information as he could. It didn’t take long to confirm that General Adams was exactly who he claimed to be, but something else that he found caught his eye and he opened a folder with Rosalyn’s name on it. Grease came over to see what he was looking at and as he flipped through the pages, both of them gasped.

  The general hadn’t lied about her mission to infiltrate the gang, but he had left some critical information out of the story. Ticks and Grease both looked at each other, exchanging a quick expression that communicated everything they needed to say. Sam needed to know.

  Chapter 7

  Encore

  Knowing that setting off an explosion big enough to get the attention of the entire town was the easy part of setting this distraction had Sam on edge, but he did his best work while a little on edge. This side operation had been no exception to that rule.

  Sam and Boomer needed to plant the explosives in a barn well away from anyone who could be hurt, but with most of the soldiers in town and the risk of patrols circling and coming in from any direction, they couldn’t risk trying to get out on foot. DaVinci had charged the diver by hand from the trailer as Mac drove their mini tank across the field toward the barn. Davinci took the tank back out as soon as they were all dropped off with the diver and then it was just the matter of timing and trying not to die. The fuse gave them just over a minute to get out which was plenty of time – again, it hadn’t been the explosion that was concerning. The danger was getting out.

  Sam clipped himself to the extended wing of the diver while Boomer did the same on the other side. When both gave the thumbs up, Mac pulled the release and the diver jumped forward, pulling hard on the cable holding Sam to the wing as he lost his grip over the front edge. The landing struts acted like skis over the hay in the field, and they were in the air only a few seconds after the propeller let go. Mac pulled them up into the dark of night, and Sam realized just how much danger they were in. Campfires in the streets of town were visible, as were those off in the distance of the Resistance Army camp, but everything else was black. Sam tried looking for the fire by the barn on the other side of town where they were supposed to land, but the hull of the diver was in the way.

  The goggles provided some protection from the wind against his eyes, but the rest of his face was chilled to the bone as they tore through the black sky. Sam was bounced hard on the wing as Mac tilted to the left and turned toward their destination. Once Sam had recovered from being tossed so violently, he looked forward and could see the triangle of fires that marked their sight. He could also see trees hiding the lights as they passed across the horizon in front of them. The trees were invisible in the night, and unlike the airship, this diver was going to have to approach along the ground. Hitting a tree was a very real danger.

  The other fear was hitting one of their friends. They knew to be out of the way, but without knowing where the diver was, they would have no idea they were in danger until it was too late if they were standing in the way.

  Another adjustment by Mack dropped the wing out from under Sam and his cord pulled him down hard against the metal. If these little adjustments hurt this much, landing was going to be a bitch!

  Sam looked through the canopy and Mac had the stick white knuckled in his hand. He was clearly very aware of the dangers as they started to descend.

  Sam tried closing his eyes, but the movement made him feel sick, so he had to open them again. When he did, he caught sight of a treetop’s shadow only a few feet from the tip of the wing. It had been WAY too close. He snapped his head back to Mac and saw him move the stick suddenly just as he was once again tossed like a rag doll on the wing. Mac had to have seen trees ahead and was now flinging the whole craft left and right faster than Sam could even try keeping up with. The best he could do was just hold on as tight as possible and try keeping his head from hitting the wing as the rest of his body flapped up and down against the hard metal over and over again.

  Another tree whizzed past, but they were much lower against that one and Sam could see it in the firelight coming from ahead. They were about to touch down. The diver stopped rocking back and forth and tilted up slowing suddenly, making Sam feel like he was being pressed into the wing by an invisible force. When it rocked back forward it hit the ground and slid sideways to a stop with just the slightest of leans. Mac had done it.

  Relief that he was still alive quickly faded and was replaced by pain in nearly his entire body. Sam felt the strain in his hands from holding on; bumps and bruises spread from head to toe as a result of the thrashing against the wing. Why couldn’t the damn diver have had more than one seat? Unclipping himself and sliding back off the wing, Sam looked over and saw Boomer rolling down into the grass and looking just as banged up and miserable. At least they were both alive.

  “That was rough,” Mac called out as he pulled himself out of the cockpit. “Are you two alright? I felt terrible tossing you about so much, but those damned trees were more of a problem than I expected.”

  “You’re telling me!” Boomer screamed from the other side of the diver. “You flew me right through some branches. They tore right through my jacket!”

  Sam felt bad for the other man, but he was also relieved to have been spared the tree lashing on his wing. Mac ducked under the hull of the diver and joined DaVinci in helping Boomer to his feet while Ben came to Sam’s aid and helped him into a wagon to make their way back into town. They needed to lay low now and wait for Ticks and Grease to return. All this was to find out if the general was what he claimed to be before handing themselves over to a potential arrest when they weren’t expecting it.

  The ride back felt far bumpier than it had after landing in the airship. Every bruise seemed to find a hard surface on the bench seat or the backrest to hit as the wagon was jostled back and forth over rocks and ruts in the road. When they finally arrived on the deserted road in front of the inn, it took Mac and Ben to help Sam and Boomer down from the wagon and into their rooms. After Ben helped Sam get into bed, he offered to stay, but Sam insisted he was okay and only asked to be updated once Ticks was back. DaVinci brought him a tall glass of something strong to help with the pain, and after suffering through it for nearly an hour, his eyes finally remained closed.

  A gentle touch on his forehead woke him, and he cracked his eyes open while trying to stretch his arms up over his head, but his
shoulders quickly reminded him of how much pain he was in. Rosalyn was sitting on the edge of his bed stroking his forehead. She cringed at the pain she could see in his face.

  “I assume all these bruises have something to do with that explosion last night,” she said with her head cocked to the side. “You boys never change.”

  Sam just groaned and forced himself up in the bed. Seeing the woman sitting next to him, a look of concern on her face, Sam did everything he could not to show his disgust at her current betrayal. He’d been cautious before, but he wanted to believe that there was a chance she could end up back in his life in a meaningful way. That hope was gone. Even if the news from Ticks was that the general was lying, he knew too much and she had to be working with either the British or with Adams and his men. She was a traitor.

  Forcing a smile, he looked her in the eyes and said, “Thank you for being with me.”

  Rosalyn responded with a kiss on his cheek. “I really do hope this is a second chance for us,” she said.

  The skin where she had kissed him seemed to burn as anger simmered within him, and he had to struggle to keep a natural expression on his face. He needed Rosalyn to believe that he was interested in her so that she would keep her guard down; she had to believe that he’d bought in to her deception. As he looked at her sitting across from him, counterfeit concern shining from her eyes, he realized that she wasn’t the only one who could lie. How much would it hurt her if he managed to play her for a change? He imagined what it would be like to use her the way she was trying to use him, to reignite their passion, and one day, to see the look on her face when he pulled the rug out. Sam cocked his head and smiled.

  He took her face in both hands and pulled her towards him, reveling in the revenge to come more than the kiss itself. This was how he would manage.

  Rosalyn pulled back, wide eyed, clearly in shock.

  “You said you wanted a second chance,” Sam said. “I do too.”

  He watched her closely, curious to see if there would be any sign of regret for what she was doing to him – again. It was hard to read her on the best of days, but Sam thought he saw her eyes darken just for a moment, but then a smile lit her face up and she threw her arms around his neck. Her weight on him sent shooting pain through his shoulders and ribs and Sam wheezed, causing her to pull back.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, wincing in sympathy for his pain. “I got too excited.”

  “It’s fine,” Sam said with a clearly forced smile. “I do have a favor to ask though. Could you see if Ticks is back and send him in to see me? I need to find out what happened last night.”

  “What were you all doing?” Rosalyn asked.

  “I’ll fill you in later. I don’t know if we actually did anything. We needed to get some info about our new Resistance friends.”

  Rosalyn nodded tentatively, like she knew that she was at some risk in all this somehow. She leaned back in for one more kiss before standing up and doing as Sam had asked. Watching her leave, and checking out the body that he still couldn’t deny was second to none, he wondered just how far he’d take faking a relationship with her in order to keep her believing that it was genuine. If he had to sleep with her to maintain the cover, that might just be an added bonus.

  The door to his room opened a moment later, and Ticks entered with Rosalyn right behind him. Sam had not intended for her to return, but he would’ve done the same thing if he were in her shoes. Ticks’ eyes, which Rosalyn could not see from behind him, told Sam that he didn’t want her in there either, but Sam didn’t ask her to leave. Making her feel comfortable would be the best hook he could sink in to make all this work.

  Ticks, seeing that Sam wasn’t going to ask her to leave, showed more boldness than normal and said, “I don’t think she should be here for this, Sam. No offense, but I don’t trust her.”

  Sam looked back to Rosalyn to see if she would be understanding and leave, but she looked annoyed and said, “I’ll leave if you want, but I don’t see why I can’t hear an update about the resistance. If you want me to stay out of it and be on my way, I will. I want another chance, but you have to give me a real chance if that is going to work.”

  She was good. There was no desperation to her argument at all. Instead, she was turning it all back on Sam. If he hadn’t known what she was up to, it might have worked. As it was, he’d have to let her think it was working. Calling her bluff wouldn’t build any trust.

  “It’s fine Ticks, she can stay. She knows the headline already anyhow. What did you find?”

  Doing nothing to hide his displeasure with Sam’s decision, Ticks cleared his throat before confirming that General Adams was exactly who he claimed to be. There seemed to be something that Ticks was holding back, but that had to because of Rosalyn and it could wait for another opportunity. Sam noticed one other thing about the man. Even in his displeasure, there was something different about him that almost made him look happy.

  “Ticks,” Sam began with a little grin, “you and Grease?”

  The normally shy man showed more of his usual demeanor as his cheeks went a bright shade of red and his eyes dropped to the ground. Rosalyn looked shocked, but there was no denying it after his reaction.

  “Wow – I always wondered about you two,” she said.

  “Really?” Ticks asked, looking at her for the first time since entering.

  “Oh yeah,” Sam chimed in. “You two have been sweet on each other for a while now, my friend. We’ve all just been waiting.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Ticks asked, smiling uncontrollably now.

  “It’s better this way,” Sam replied with a big smile. “Good for you.”

  Before they could talk anymore, a knock at Sam’s open door drew all their attention back to a soldier standing at attention in the entrance.

  “Good morning, sir,” the soldier barked. “General Adam’s requests your presence at your earliest convenience. There is an urgent matter he would like to discuss with you.”

  “Tell him I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Sam grunted as he swung his legs out of bed.

  “Very good, sir,” the soldier replied before leaving.

  Sam gestured to the door to have Ticks close it, and once their privacy was more assured, he asked, “Do you think he knows about last night?”

  “He’d have to be a fool not to think it was you,” Rosalyn said. “But I doubt he’ll care if you didn’t steal anything.”

  She looked over at Ticks to see if they’d taken anything they shouldn’t have.

  “No,” Ticks exclaimed. “Of course we didn’t steal anything. What do you take me for, a buffoon?”

  Sam interjected, “No one thinks you’re a buffoon, Ticks. She was just making sure. I doubt he’d confront me on that either. He probably wants to know if I have an answer for him yet. Nothing to worry too much about.”

  “What does he want from you?” Rosalyn asked.

  Sam had nearly forgotten that she didn’t know what all had been discussed the prior day.

  “He wants us to help lead attacks on the Empire. We will get command of his troops to help with our heists and arrange to do some damage in the process.”

  Rosalyn’s eyes betrayed her for a moment and went wide as she said, “You’re going to turn him away, aren’t you? This is the same resistance that plans to jail most of you as deserters if they get the chance.”

  Sam replied, “We get a pardon if we do this. And I’m leaning toward accepting his offer. I’m no lover of the British Empire and anything we can do to help the Resistance while still getting rich is a win/win in my book.”

  The battle of poker faces continued, and Sam held back his own amusement at her discomfort. If she was secretly serving the Empire, she was now finding out that they were a greater threat than she had realized.

  Sam rinsed his face and grabbed his jacket to go and meet with Adams. Rosalyn followed him to the front of the inn, but he told her that the general would not talk with both of them and tha
t she’d need to wait for him. She objected at being left with the others, who so clearly hated her, but ultimately, she stayed. Ticks came out and shouted after Sam, but he was in a hurry to get to the General and shouted back that he would talk to him when he was done.

  Two men stood guard outside the General’s armored tank, but neither gave Sam any indication that there would be trouble. When he entered, the general gave him a big smile and invited him to sit opposite the desk from his much larger chair.

  “Good morning,” said the general.

  “Morning,” Sam replied.

  “Given that you decided to accept my invitation, can I assume that you’ve decided to accept my offer?” Adam’s asked.

  Sam paused a moment and then replied, “I had until the end of the day today, why do you want to know so urgently?”

  “More intel has arrived, and I’m excited to get started if we have an agreement. Do we?”

  “How do we really know that you’ll hold up your end of the bargain?” Sam asked. “What if we do all this and you just arrest us when we’re done?”

  “I have the signatures of the Resistance government authorizing your pardons. This is a done deal if you take the offer.”

  “And once we are a part of the army, how do I know that you’ll give me the autonomy that we’ve discussed? I have no interest in being put back on the front lines to get shot.”

  Sam expected the General to grow annoyed at the conversation, but he only smiled.

  “There’s nothing I can do to convince you that I will hold up my end of that bargain. You’re right. I could turn around and put a rifle in your hands tomorrow once I have you re-enlisted. But, think of it this way. If I do that, you can just run again as you’ve done in the past and be in no worse a position than you are today. There’s no risk. So, Mr. Rosecrans – do we have an arrangement?”

 

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