by James Axler
"And someone wanted him to look like a guilty man," Mildred added.
"Well, you'll have a chance to talk to the big man about it," Myall sighed. "I radioed Baron Silas straight away, and he's coming out here."
BARON SILAS ARRIVED about an hour later, during which time Ryan and his people had the chance to clean up and eat, if not to get any sleep. The baron drove into the camp in his large old truck wag, with the shotgun sec rider, and strode straight across to where the bodies of the saboteurs were still lying, rotting in the sun.
He nodded to himself, then turned to Myall, who had joined him. The sec chief showed the baron to where the corpse of Crow had been stashed, and when the two men emerged, they were greeted by the companions, who had left the mess building to meet the baron.
"Well, well, well," Baron Silas said as he greeted them, his eyes slits under the brim of his hat. "You caught some of them, but still managed to blow some of the compound."
"Nothing compared to what could have been done. Besides, you know we couldn't cover all the vulnerable points without extra cover," Ryan commented.
"You mean to say you didn't mount a full guard?" Baron Silas said with a startled tone.
Ryan examined the man closely with his single eye. "You know what our plan of action was. That's why you sent Crow out to ask us."
"I didn't send Crow," Baron Silas said flatly. "Your job was to protect the site and root out the saboteurs. Looks like you've done some of that, but not enough."
"What do you mean?" Ryan continued.
"I mean all the other barons are coming to Salvation in three days' time, and all I can tell them is that you've failed."
"You call that failure?" Mildred said angrily, pointing to the distant corpses of the saboteurs.
"Yeah, I do. There's still damage to the site, and you've no idea where they come from."
"And you have, from this evidence?" Doc queried gently, noting a certain tone to the baron's voice.
"Yeah, reckon I have," Baron Silas replied. "If Crow was involved, then it's got to be something to do with Running Water. And mebbe Water Valley. Could be that they've got an alliance going that has to do with their water-power mills. In which case, this'd be a problem for them."
"Then why would they come in with you?" Dean asked.
Baron Silas shrugged. "Because it looks good, and gives them a chance to hit me from within. I reckon it's pretty clear what's going on now. I'd suggest—" he put heavy emphasis on the word, making it clear he thought of it as an instruction "—that you search out the rest of the bastards behind this, and look in that quarter. All this crap about it being from outside is just that—crap." Finally, Baron Silas spit on Crow's corpse. "I trusted you, bastard."
"WE NEED TO TALK," J.B. whispered to Ryan as they, along with McVie and Myall, watched Baron Silas leave.
"With you on that," the one-eyed man agreed. "This stinks worse than those chilled mercies."
Myall, who appeared not to have heard the whispered conversation, turned to the companions. "I'll start operations in the camp, try and get to the bottom of it. You get some rest, ready for tonight," he told Ryan.
"You don't sound that happy about doing this," Ryan commented, noting a certain tone in the sec chiefs voice.
Myall shook his head. "It doesn't make sense, Ryan. None of it. But I'm fucked if I can make head or tail of it. All I know is that if I don't follow through on the baron's orders, it'll be my head on a pole."
"It's a harsh life," Ryan commented. "But you're right. We should get some rest. Take it easy." He turned and led his people away to their sleeping tent, although sleep was the last thing on the minds of any of them.
"There's something really wrong with all this," Dean said as soon as they were alone. "No way was Crow one of the saboteurs. And what does Baron Silas think he's getting away with saying he knew nothing about our plans? That was why Crow was here yesterday."
"I think he reported to Baron Silas yesterday," Doc said quietly. "And I think he was killed in a deliberate attempt to make it look as though the sabotage comes from within the villes, and not from outside. I also think that we were perfect for the baron because we come from the outside, and to use us as his pawns would not endanger any of his sec forces."
"Meaning that we're in danger?" Krysty posed.
"I think we are," Doc replied, "in the manner of being what they used to call 'the fall guys.' Just as Crow was used in this way."
"You mean to tell me that you believe Crow was killed to provide a distraction?" Ryan asked. And when Doc nodded, so did the one-eyed man. "It'd make sense, I guess. Mebbe he knew something he shouldn't have done. After all, why the hell was he on that road at that time of night when he was supposed to be with Baron Silas?"
"Mebbe he was," J.B. mused. "Mebbe that's the whole problem. We've been looking for outside saboteurs when all the time it has been from inside. But not from the inside that everyone thought."
Jak gave J.B. a puzzled look. "Not make sense."
"Oh, but it does," said Doc slowly. "My dear John Barrymore, I think you may have cracked it. Supposing that Crow had reported to Baron Silas, and suppose that was why he died? To provide a decoy to the fact that all the points hit were ones that were not on the patrol rota at the times they were hit. After all, if he had not visited the baron, then only he would know the points that were vulnerable."
"Oh shit, I've just remembered," Dean whispered. "Baron Silas mentioned that the idea of the saboteurs being outsiders was crap."
Ryan furrowed his brow. "So?"
Dean turned to his father and fixed him with a stare. "So no one knew about that idea of J.B.'s except us and Crow. And the only reason Baron Silas would know—"
"—is if Crow told him," the Armorer concluded.
They sat in stunned silence for a moment. Finally, Krysty asked the obvious question. "But why would the baron want to sabotage his own project?"
"If, my sweet girl, there was something that would emerge and destroy his dream. Men have killed for less," Doc mused.
"Or just take all other barons' jack," Jak added more prosaically.
"Whatever, it leaves us in the middle," Ryan said grimly. "First thing to decide is this—what do we do about it?"
"Find evidence that we can present to the other barons and get our necks saved," Mildred remarked. "Because one thing is for sure—we're being set up to be next on the block after Crow."
J.B. had been silent for longer than the others, looking pensive and lost in thought. Then he said, "How long until the other barons come to Salvation?"
"Silas say three days," Jak replied. "Two nights, guess…"
"Mebbe that's why the attacks have increased," J.B. said quietly. "I've got to go and ask Myall something."
"What?" Ryan asked.
"If he has any record of the sabotage attacks on the well and refinery since work started," the Armorer returned over his shoulder as he left the tent.
MYALL WAS in his small office, drawing up new guard rotas in light of what Baron Silas had told him.
"J.B., what can I do for you?" the sec chief asked wearily as the Armorer entered.
"Records—you keep notes on everything, it seems," the Armorer began, "and I wanted to know if you had any records on the attacks on the well and refinery."
"Such as?"
"Dates, sites that were attacked, anything that could give me a clue as to some sort of pattern."
Myall scratched his head. "Well, I don't keep any records of that as such, but I guess it all would be in the duty log I've got. Everything that happens on patrols I keep note of, just in case the baron asks me about something." The sec chief gave a wry grin. "That way, at least I can tell the Baron something, even if I can't give him all the answers he wants."
"Can I borrow the log?" J.B. asked.
Myall shrugged and handed it over to the Armorer, wondering aloud what the hell good it could do. J.B. didn't answer, but took the collection of papers and notes back to the compani
ons' tent, where the others were waiting.
"Now we'll see," J.B. said cryptically as he settled down with the papers.
After a few minutes, he looked up. "Yep, it's just as I thought. The attacks increase in frequency to coincide with the visit of the other barons, which means the project is always in chaos when they're here and they never get to see the full picture."
"Which means Baron Silas really does have something to hide," Mildred stated. "And, if I'm not mistaken, means we're in for an interesting couple of nights. Especially as the baron knows our patrol schedule."
"So we change it, catch him out," Dean said simply.
"No, not quite," Ryan added. "We play along with him. We need to be able to prove all this to save our necks, because you can bet your last jack that when this comes out we'll be seen by the other barons as being part of it, unless we can prove otherwise. Tonight we stick to the schedule."
"And if there are attacks?" Doc asked.
"We see if they're on the undefended points," Ryan answered. "And if so, then the following night we change the schedule and keep a triple red on those points he thinks are unprotected. And then—and only then—we've got the bastard."
"And kept hold of our skins," Mildred added.
THAT NIGHT BROUGHT exactly what the companions had expected. They were positioned according to the schedule Crow had relayed to Baron Silas when the sound of wags became apparent across the silent desert earth.
Ryan spoke into his handset. "Which direction?"
Jak's voice came back over the crackling receiver. "One headed for pipes to storage tank."
Doc's voice cut in. "Another is taking a second shot at the refinery building they were foiled on last night."
"Any others?" Ryan asked. There was a negative response. So there were only the two wags sent on this night. It was as if whoever was behind the plan didn't want to risk too much. Ryan understood that. His contention had been that the saboteurs would want to marshal all their resources for the last night before the meeting of the barons. This pair of attacks would be to test the water. Had they worked out what was going on? If so, would they have changed their rota?
Although he was almost a hundred percent sure that Baron Silas was behind the attacks, the one-eyed man didn't want to count on that fact and be caught out if it was someone else.
The following night would show for sure. In the meantime, they had to show themselves willing without risking too much.
"Okay, let's go after them." But not, he added to himself, too hard.
Ryan headed toward the wag that was trying to sabotage the piping that led between the refinery and the storage tanks. Along the way, he was joined by Jak and Mildred. All three of them were cantering with their horses, not wishing to charge into trouble. The following night would be the time to go hell for leather.
The sound of the wag had ceased. In the distance, they could see a dim light where the saboteurs were using a lamp to wire their device.
"They're not frightened of being seen," Mildred remarked.
"Need light. Mebbe one man on shotgun," Jak replied.
"So how do we tackle this?" Mildred asked Ryan.
"Circle wide. They'll have to put a timer on their bombs so they can get away. Take a few shots at them, then we'll let the bomb go off, make it look like we failed this time, and they caught us out."
"Sound good," Jak said.
"Hope it's enough to fool them," Mildred added.
Meanwhile, Doc had been joined by J.B., Dean and Krysty, headed toward the refinery block that hadn't been damaged the night before. They were adopting the same tactics as Ryan, Mildred and Jak, circling around the site and moving at a canter rather than a gallop. Like the other group, they wished to create the impression that they were out to stop the saboteurs while making them feel that they could succeed, and so open the way for the following night, when they would go all out against the saboteurs.
The wag standing outside the blockhouse was empty, and as they approached, it seemed that the building itself was empty.
"Must be inside," Krysty said. "We'll let them get out before we fire."
"Try and hit the wag, but don't chill any of them," J.B. muttered. "We want them to get away."
In both locations, the friends waited at a safe distance for the saboteurs to emerge from planting their bombs. It would be a delicate balance to appear to be fighting while in fact hanging back.
At the pipeline, the two saboteurs hurried back to their wag, to find themselves under fire from Ryan, Jak and Mildred, who had circled wide and were now homing in from three differing directions. The saboteurs fired up their wag and headed out into the desert with a squeal of brakes and a screech of tires. Bullets from the ZKR, the Colt Python and the Steyr bit the dirt around the wag, some hits scoring the sides of the wag. But none hit the saboteurs, who thought their luck was in. They didn't realize that the lack of visible success was deliberate.
Much the same happened to the saboteurs emerging from the blockhouse, who found themselves under fire from some distance. They ran to their wag, keeping close to the ground, clambering in and firing the engine. The wag bucked as the driver threw it into gear, and it roared off away from the blockhouse and toward the desert, under fire from J.B., Doc, Krysty and Dean. The shot from the LeMat splashed the side of the wag, pitting the metal.
As the wag pulled away, J.B. turned to the others. "Let's get the hell out before the bomb blows."
THE EXPLOSIONS from both bombs were visible from the workers' camp and the sec camp. The only people not to see them were the companions, who were headed back toward the sec camp with their backs to the work site.
When they reached the sec camp, Myall was waiting for them.
"Well? What the fuck was that?" he asked Ryan.
The one-eyed man fixed Myall with a stare. "Fire-blasted saboteurs. We weren't able to stop them in time. They got into areas we weren't able to cover. Bastards got away this time, though I think we may have injured one of them. Didn't chill any, though."
"Shit! Baron Silas ain't gonna be pleased about this."
"Neither are we," Ryan snapped, leaving the sec chief standing as he headed toward their sleeping tent, followed by the companions.
"Think I sounded convincing?" he asked Krysty. "I'm a fireblasted terrible liar."
"I reckon you did okay," the woman replied. "I also think Myall's got more to worry about than us."
"Let's hope so," Ryan said thoughtfully, "because what we need is everyone to trust us until tomorrow night."
Chapter Eighteen
Evening came too soon. After the companions had rested, and then risen and eaten, Ryan had to discuss the previous evening's apparent debacle with Myall and seem to be irritated by his people's apparent inability to deal successfully with the sabotage attempts.
"I dunno what Baron Silas is going to make of this," Myall said softly as he sat back in the small room he used as an office, staring out of the window and not at Ryan, who stood uneasily opposite. The one-eyed man was too straight a person to be able to lie easily in such a situation, and he felt as though Myall would see through him at any moment.
"He can make what he wants," Ryan answered in an offhand manner, avoiding the sec chiefs gaze any time it strayed from out of the window and back into the room.
"So easy for you to say, Ryan. You know the meeting of the barons is tomorrow, and they arrive in Salvation during the day, right?" When the one-eyed man nodded, Myall continued. "Thing is, if they'd arrived the other day when you'd chilled some of the fuckers, and we'd found Crow, that'd look good. Now, with another attack that's been successful, it don't look so good. And that's our asses on the line."
Why not state the fireblasted obvious? Ryan thought, but instead he said, "We're all doing our best here. Baron Silas knows that. The other barons will know that. And we have made progress."
Myall looked at Ryan as though he were stupe. "You think that'll cut any ice with these coldhearts?"
; Ryan resisted the temptation to grin, and answered, "No. But what the hell else can we do?" Adding to himself that they could nail Baron Silas Hunter to the wellhead and offer him up for the lying bastard he truly was.
Ryan left an unhappy Myall and returned to his people.
"So how's our happy sec chief today?" Mildred asked with more than a hint of sarcasm as Ryan entered.
"About as far from happy as he can possibly get, I'd say," Ryan returned. "Not that it's our problem, but the poor bastard has been given the shit end of the stick."
"There's always someone to get that," J.B. mused. "Main thing is to see that it's not you."
"Yeah, exactly," Ryan agreed. "Now, if we're going to get this matter nailed tonight and save our own asses, then we've really got to get to work before sundown."
BARON SILAS WAS a far from happy man. If the demeanor of his sec chief had betrayed strained nerves and apprehension about the forthcoming events to Ryan, then one look at the baron would only confirm to the one-eyed man everything that he and his people had suspected about the baron.
The man prowled the length of his dining room, the heels of his snakeskin boots clicking irritatedly against the polished flooring. He ignored the procession of maids that came in and out of the room in order to decorate it for the banquet with which he would greet his fellow barons that evening, before leaving them—hopefully drunk into insensibility—to complete his necessary tasks. If the drink didn't work, then he had some jolt to keep them amused and blasted. If not that, then there were always the women. One way or the other, he had to keep them occupied all the evening to enable his plan to take place. Already he had set up Crow as the ringleader of the saboteurs. Now he just needed to cause enough damage to the well to put it out of action permanently and set up Ryan and his people as fall guys. Oh, yeah—and, if possible, make sure that at least one of the other barons would find another of the barons to blame and so cause enough internal warring to deflect any attention from himself.
Shouldn't be too difficult.
