A Malevolent Manner (Patrick Pierce #1)

by William Scott

They all dispersed as quickly and casually as they could, trying to avoid drawing the attention of Bufford and his men down the street. Liam and Sean immediately followed on foot, blending in to the mildly crowded street.

  “They won’t be able to follow them for long,” Pierced observed watching them leave. “Where are the horses?”

  “Where we left them,” groaned MacDuff reprovingly. They took off running down the street in the opposite direction and quickly found their rides happily grazing on some grass in the park where they had left them. Despite finding their mounts quickly, the delay had been unnecessary and potentially costly. They retraced their path, passed the bistro and continued down the road they had watched the truck head down.

  “We’re chasing them blind!” Pierce swore as he looked for any sign of his men or the truck. With every step they took, there was the distinct possibility that they were heading in the wrong direction.

  “Maybe not,” MacDuff replied, pointing over the head of his horses bobbing head.

  Liam was at the corner of a busy intersection staring down a street to his right. He looked back and caught sight of Pierce and MacDuff approaching.

  “Sean is chasing them down this road,” he said nodding down the street he had been watching. “You can probably still see them further down.”

  “I see them,” MacDuff confirmed as he stood up in his saddle. “Luckily it’s almost as crowded as Seville. They’re not able to speed up.”

  “Good work Liam,” approved Pierce as he tried to figure out what to do next. Without radios or any other communications devices, the possibility of them getting lost was very real. They had been caught off guard and did not have a rendez-vous or back up plan created. His thoughts were then disturbed by the fortuitous ringing of the local church tower.

  “What do we do now?” Liam asked impatiently.

  “You go back and get your horses,” ordered Pierce before MacDuff could. He then began outlining the plan that was forming in his mind. “MacDuff and I will follow the truck and relieve Sean. I want both of you to head to that Church Tower. You can watch our progress from there with the binoculars.”

  “What happens if they’re heading out of town? They could go in any direction.”

  “MacDuff and I will wait for you on the outskirts of town if that happens. We should be able to track them easily enough if they leave town.”

  “If you say so,” Liam agreed before racing back to the small stable where they left their horses.

  Pierce and MacDuff continued their pursuit of Bufford’s truck down the busy streets of Merida. The riding was difficult as they worked to catch up to the truck. They rode quickly; dodging carts, wagons, and pedestrians. They eventually reached Sean at another intersection, where he was breathing heavily from the pursuit. He pointed out the truck’s route and Pierce relayed the same instructions he’d given to Liam. Sean nodded and made his way towards the church as the horsemen continued their chase.

  “Where do you think they’re going?” Pierce asked aloud as they approached a more industrial sector on the outskirts of town.

  “No clue, maybe the local whorehouse?” MacDuff winked before slowing his horse to a trot. “They’re slowing down. We’d better do the same.”

  Pierce nodded in agreement, keeping pace with his companion. The cobble stoned streets of the town were behind them, replaced by dirt tracks littered with small stones and potholes. The change in ground made the horses progress much easier and quieter. However the truck ahead was having an adverse reaction to the change. Pierce watched as the men in the truck bed bounced around as it hit consecutive holes.

  “They’re going to break their truck again if they don’t slow down,” Pierce admonished humorously. Another big bounce almost threw one of the men out of the truck, eliciting a sharp cry of discomfort and alarm. The truck stopped immediately and Pierce and MacDuff hurriedly hid behind a crumbling stone wall. The crowd had thinned out considerably, with only a few workers and the odd wagon travelling the road. Although some of the buildings were still in use, business had clearly dropped off in recent times.

  “Let’s go around the building ahead and get beside them,” MacDuff suggested, pointing to a bombed out factory that stretched ahead of them. “We’ll track them the same way we did across the countryside. This place is pretty barren and they’ll eventually notice us behind them.”

  They moved out slowly and began following the truck as it started up again. The building ran parallel with the main road, allowing them to track the truck at a much closer distance. Holes in the crumbling walls and shattered window panes provided them the opportunity to observe the progress of the truck in fairly regular intervals. At a window near the end of the building they noticed that the truck had come to a halt at a T intersection. The road forming the top of the T was in front of them as well and had warehouses in even greater disrepair running along it.

  “Think they’re lost?” Pierce asked peering through a hole in the wall. The truck was still running, but the men on the back had gotten off and were looking down the intersecting road while stretching their legs.

  “Can’t tell,” MacDuff answered quietly. He then held is hand up before Pierce could say another word. “I think they’re meeting someone. Quick, get in the building!”

  The quiet intensity of MacDuff’s order made Pierce move quickly, jumping down from the saddle and leading is horse into the warehouse. MacDuff was immediately behind him, narrowly escaping the detection of the approaching vehicles that he had heard.

  Two large dark coloured trucks much like Bufford’s followed a dusty maroon sedan convertible. They stopped about twenty yards from the intersection, where Bufford and his men had descended from their own truck. They were still dressed as soldiers, carrying their weapons at the ready.

  “I wonder who they’re meeting,” Pierce wondered aloud as the newly arrived vehicles emptied.

  Four men in dusty khakis armed with a collection of firearms emerged from the back truck, casually taking defensive positions. Two similarly dressed men jumped out of the sedan, the first went to the front of the car, while the second opened the front passenger door. A short man with a goatee and light coloured suit got out and removed his fedora to fan his sweating face. He called a greeting to Bufford that was inaudible to the pair hiding in the warehouse.

  “I’ve got to get closer and find out what they’re saying,” a determined Pierce uttered as he looked for ways to approach.

  “It looked like there was a bend in the road this new batch travelled down. It should provide an unobserved way to cross over.”

  “From there I can get into the building right behind them,” Pierce finished as he watched Bufford and the suited man move towards a building across the road with their respective entourages.

  “I’ll stay here and watch them,” offered MacDuff as he removed his binoculars and a metal tin from his bag.

  “What’s that for?” Pierce asked, seeing the tin as he was leaving.

  “I might get hungry. Who knows how long we’ll be here.”

  Pierce was stunned that anyone could eat at a time like this. Between the danger and excitement it was all he could do to keep from vomiting as he crossed the open alley between the buildings.

  He moved quickly through two smaller buildings before he found a place where the road veered off at an angle. Spying around the corner, Pierce made sure that there was no direct line of sight to the intersection. Satisfied he looked both ways and sprinted across the road and into a burned out building that had once housed machinery of some type. The wooden floor creaked beneath him as he stepped across a floor littered with the charcoal remains of the rafters. Luckily the shop was not very big and Pierce happily crossed another alley to the next building.

  It had probably been a garage of some type. The open space was very long and had a ceiling high enough to rival the entrance hall of the Manor. The floor was smooth concrete and barren of any type of debris. Luckily the walls that ran along the
road did not contain any large doors, merely the odd window. However like many of the buildings in the area, this one also had its share of holes in the wall and roof.

  Pierce quickly ran the length of the garage, slowing periodically to look out the windows or holes. Within seconds he was near the trucks and was surprised to hear them still running. He carefully looked out a window and saw that the drivers were still inside. Ready to make quick getaway? Putting the thought aside he crept onwards with his head down, fighting the curiosity to look out the windows above him.

  He followed the murmur of voices until they became audible. Bufford and the other man must have been right beside the building, as Pierce could hear them clearly through a nearby window.

  “Everything appears to be in order,” rasped a voice in accented English that Pierce couldn’t place.

  “So everything’s in the first truck?” inquired the clear southern drawl of the Colonel.

  “As agreed.”

  “Well that’s just fine. Tell you what; you can take our truck in exchange.”

  “Marvelous,” came the response, dripping with sarcasm.

  Pierce was fighting hard not to look out the window now. He needed to know what was in the truck and who this guy was.

  “Senior, I keep seeing a flash in that building,” warned a new voice Pierce had not heard before.

  “God damn it, don’t look at me,” laughed Bufford after a moment’s silence. “If I was planning an ambush you’d be dead already.”

  “Well then you must have been followed! Esteban take two men and check it out.”

  Pierce’s heart sank when he realized that the guard had probably seen the glare off of MacDuff’s binoculars. Taking a chance he slowly raised his head to peek out of the window sill above him. Bufford and the other man were indeed close, but were looking in the opposite direction. Pierce looked that way as well, at the building he had left MacDuff in. Sure enough, within a few seconds a reflective flash came from their observation post.

  “Get out of there Duffy,” whispered Pierce anxiously as he watched the armed men approach from all sides. But the flashing continued as the net tightened. Pierce suddenly thought of trying to make a distraction to give his man time to escape, but he was stuck in place, staring across the street.

  The three armed men stormed into the warehouse through whichever means they could, while Pierce shut his eyes helplessly. He slid back down to the floor, his back to the wall, hoping for a miracle.

  “Ha, ha, ha,” cackled Bufford. “I told you it wasn’t me!”

  “An old tin can senior,” called Esteban as he approached his boss, tossing the can onto the street. “No sign of anyone, probably some bum squatting there.”

  “Well if there’s nothing else, my men will get out of your hair. Pleasure doing business with you.”

  Pierce couldn’t believe their luck, but wondered what had happened to MacDuff. He slid from his spot and moved to another that would give him a better view of the first truck. If he was lucky he might be able to see what was inside it. He watched Bufford and his men get into the cab, but became confused when they hesitated.

  Two military painted staff cars came screaming down the third road that met at the intersection, quickly followed by at least twenty men on foot in uniform and carrying guns. A flurry of shouted Spanish erupted, quickly followed by gunfire.

  “You double crossed me!” yelled Bufford from the cab of the truck.

  “It was you!” screamed back the small suited man as he ducked behind his car.

  Pierce glanced out the window quickly, but was forced back down when bullets shattered the glass and thumped against the wall above him. For some reason a platoon of nationalist soldiers had shown up and were shooting at everything at the intersection.

  “Psst,” hissed a voice from behind Pierce, freezing him in place. “It’s just me lad, relax.”

  “How did you…?” stumbled Pierce, shocked by MacDuff’s emergence behind him.

  “Never mind that now. The horses are over by the door. Let’s get the hell out of here while they’re busy killing each other. You have your pistol?”

  Pierce had forgotten all about the small calibre revolver in his waist band when the shooting had started. So he stopped to pull it out, checking it was loaded. Satisfied he started towards the back doors where MacDuff had reached the tethered horses.

  Suddenly a small door just ahead of him slammed open and two armed soldiers ran in with their rifles raised. They immediately began shouting at MacDuff as they closed in on him from behind, ignorant of Pierce’s position behind them. When MacDuff didn’t move, the first soldier pulled the trigger of his rifle eliciting the hollow click of an empty chamber. Cursing he lowered his rifle to cycle the action in order to reload.

  Without hesitating Pierce raised his pistol and put a bullet into the head of the second soldier whose rifle was still raised. The soldier crumpled immediately, dead before he hit the ground. Pierce then traversed to the left, where the soldier reloading looked up in shock before he also received a single shot.

  Looking at the two dead bodies, a nauseous wave of panic, shock, and disbelief flowed over Pierce. He then unceremoniously dropped his pistol and bent over, vomiting onto the concrete floor. MacDuff was beside him in an instant, pulling him towards the horses.

  “Let’s get moving,” urged MacDuff as they led their horses out the back and onto a dirt path. They raised themselves up onto the saddles and took off down the path heading towards a field beyond that marked the edge of Merida. But when they reached the field Pierce stopped and turned his horse around. He could feel the initial fear and shock of the fight they had just fled slowly leaving him. It was being replaced by frustration and anger. Sure they had tracked Bufford well, but they were no closer to finding out what his plans were. And in that gunfight their first real lead huddled from bullets in a crumbled white suit.

  “What are you doing lad? We’re not armed for a heavy gunfight. We’ll meet up with the boys and pick up Bufford’s trail.”

  “I’ve got to know what he picked up,” replied Pierce jumping down from his horse and running back towards the intersection. “If he’s not dead, the small suited bastard will tell us.”

  “Wait!” yelled MacDuff. “I’m coming with you, you stubborn bastard. Just keep your head down and let’s get this over with as fast as possible.”