Defiance of Eagles

by William W. Johnstone

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll show you today’s date.”

  Taylor threw the knife and it whizzed through the air, then stuck through the calendar, into the wall behind it. The handle of the knife quivered for a second.

  “That’s pretty good,” Falcon said.

  “Mr. Peabody, he bet me I couldn’t hit the G by throwin’ the knife. I did, and I won half a dollar. Now, you said if I answered another question for you, you’d tell me what this is all about. I know it ain’t none of my business, but a man does get curious.”

  “A few days ago some men killed a rancher by the name of Johnny McVey, back in Deer Lodge,” Falcon said. “And after they killed him, they took his wife. His wife happens to be my niece, and I’m looking for her.”

  “And you think this here piece of paper might have somethin’ to do with it?”

  “I think it might help me find her, yes. And I’m very appreciative to you for your help.”

  “Yes, sir, well, I don’t know as I was all that much of a help, but I’m right proud if I could do anything for you.”

  “Thanks again,” Falcon said, walking back out to mount Lightning.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “I have a feeling we need to be moving on,” Ackerman said. “We have been here too long.”

  “Where are we going, Major?” Casey asked.

  “The first thing we are going to do is pick up the money they left at the water tower.”

  “How do we know it will be there?”

  “It will be there. I’m sure Colonel Hamilton doesn’t want to find his daughter’s severed hand.”

  Mary Kate gasped.

  “And it’s such a lovely hand, too,” Ackerman said, smiling.

  Mary Kate did not think she had ever seen such evil as there was in that mirthless smile.

  “Then where?” Casey asked.

  “Purgatory.”

  Casey smiled. “Good. The men will appreciate that.”

  “Sergeant, I don’t make decisions based upon what the men will appreciate,” Ackerman said. “I make decisions based upon what I think is the best move at the moment.”

  “Yes, sir,” Casey said, the smile gone.

  Leaving the way station, Ackerman led his men toward the water tank where he expected the one thousand dollars to be left. Before actually approaching the tank, however, he dispatched riders to all cardinal points around the tank. It took an hour for them to return. All four reported that the coast was clear.

  Half an hour later, at exactly thirty paces south of the water tank, Ackerman saw three rocks arranged as a triangle. Buried under the rocks was a canvas bag, and inside the bag was a bound packet of ten-dollar bills. It took but a moment to count them and ascertain that the amount stipulated had been left.

  “Well, I’m beginning to believe this is all going to turn out well for you and for me,” Ackerman said to Mary Kate.

  Remounting, he resumed the march, his riders following behind in precise military position.

  After leaving the blacksmith shop, Falcon debated whether to return to Brimstone and wait on the others before going to the way station or to go there himself. Every moment he waited was one moment longer in the ordeal that Mary Kate was having to go through. He thought of his conversation with her on the night before she was married.

  “Still, if I ever got into trouble, and needed a knight in shining armor, riding a white horse, to come rescue me, promise me that you will do it,” she had said.

  Falcon had laughed it off. “Darlin’, I’m not a knight, I don’t have armor, in fact I don’t even think I would fit into one of those suits of armor out in the hall. And Lightning is black, not white.”

  “But promise me if I ever need you, that you will come rescue me.”

  Falcon had put his hand on Mary Kate’s cheek and she reached up to pull his hands over to her lips to kiss.

  “Of course, I promise,” he had said.

  Falcon had made his niece that promise, and he intended to keep it. But could he go up against Ackerman’s army, alone? If he failed, it would make the situation even worse for Mary Kate. No, he had no choice. He was going to have to return to Brimstone and tell the others what he had learned.

  Frustrated that he was this close, but unable to do anything about it, Falcon turned his horse south, for Brimstone.

  “Yes, I know exactly where the way station is,” Edward said.

  “I am convinced that Mary Kate is there,” Falcon said.

  “Then let’s go get her!” Megan said.

  “We can’t just ride up there,” Falcon said. “If Ackerman is as military as everyone is saying he is, he isn’t going to bivouac anywhere without posting guards. And I have a feeling these guards won’t be shouting ‘Who goes there?’ I expect they’ll shoot first, and ask questions later.”

  “I think you’re right,” Edward said.

  “All right, we need some traveling rations,” Falcon said. “Jerky, hardtack, bacon, beans, coffee. I expect we’ll have to go into town for that.”

  “No, we won’t,” Morgan said. “Matthew and I stocked up on that sort of thing before we even came down here. We figured we might be going out for an extended period of time.”

  “Smart move,” Falcon said. “All right, I suggest we leave now, and we’ll reach the place after dark. More ’n likely, we’ll have to deal with whatever sentry he has posted, but the main body would be asleep.”

  “Good idea,” Matthew agreed.

  “Then let’s saddle up and get on the way,” Falcon suggested.

  It was dark, and as they approached the way station they could see it in the moonlight. Dismounting, they ground-tied their horses, then moved a little closer to examine the building.

  “There are lights,” Megan said quietly.

  “Maybe everyone inside is asleep,” Matthew suggested.

  “No, it isn’t that late. Someone would be awake,” Falcon replied.

  “Do you think it’s empty?” Edward asked.

  “Maybe they were never here in the first place,” Morgan said.

  “They may not be here now, but I know they were here,” Falcon said. “I’m convinced that Mary Kate left that corner of the poster as a message. And if we don’t follow up on it . . . we are doing her a disservice.”

  “What now? Should we continue to advance?” Morgan asked.

  “Not all of us. I’ll go on by myself, there’s less chance of being discovered. The rest of you stay here.”

  “What if they are there, and you are discovered?” Megan asked.

  “No, that might endanger Mary Kate. Just stay put until you see what is happening and you figure out what you can do.”

  Pulling his gun and bending over in a crouch, Falcon moved quickly toward the way station, staying behind bushes and rocks when he could, and using shadow when he couldn’t. After a couple of minutes, he made it all the way to the building. He could smell the droppings of horses from the overhang, but there were no horses there.

  The fact that there were no horses but that their droppings were fresh enough that he could still smell them convinced him that there had, indeed, been people here, and very recently. But the horses were gone, and that made him reasonably certain that nobody was here now.

  Nevertheless, he moved with extreme caution all the way around the building, listening for any sound of life. When he got to the front of the building, he saw that the door was standing wide open. He doubted, seriously, if the door would be standing open if there was anyone inside, but still, he moved cautiously.

  Falcon slipped in through the door as quietly as he could. Suddenly he heard a loud flopping, fluttering sound, and he swung around with his pistol up and cocked!

  Two birds flew by him, through the door, then out into the night, and Falcon smiled. If birds were in here, no people were in here. He struck a match and in the flare of the flame made a quick perusal. He saw nobody here, but he did see a candle, which he lit. Then, with the lit candle, he stepped out on
the side of the house nearest where he had left his siblings and waved the candle back and forth.

  “I’m sure that means it’s clear to come in,” Morgan said.

  “Unless it’s Ackerman and he’s trying to lure us in,” Matthew suggested.

  “It’s Falcon,” Megan said.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “It’s Falcon,” Megan said again, and she started toward the building.

  “Wait, if we are going to go down there, we may as well take the horses with us,” Edward suggested.

  “I’ll bring Lightning,” Morgan offered.

  Half an hour later, Falcon was sitting on the edge of the porch, eating peaches from a can. The moon cast a silver rim around Rattlesnake Mountains. High overhead, the black-velvet sky was filled with stars that ranged in magnitude from pulsating white, all the way down to a barely perceptible blue dust.

  Falcon had taken his supper with the others inside the building, then he came outside to eat his peaches and get a breath of fresh air. They had not yet decided what their next move might be, but they had decided that they would spend the night here and would make further plans before everyone bedded down.

  Falcon heard someone walking across the porch behind him. Without turning around, he spoke.

  “Hello, Megan.”

  “That’s very good,” Megan said. “How did you know it was me?”

  “Your steps are lighter and quicker than the others,” Falcon said. He held out his can. “Would you like the rest of my peaches?”

  “Why, how nice of you to share,” Megan replied, sitting on the porch beside him.

  “I have sort of a weakness for canned peaches,” Falcon admitted. “I almost always have three or four cans in my saddlebags.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure my horse appreciates my habit.”

  Megan pulled a spoon from her shirt pocket and began eating.

  “They are very good,” she said as she took the first bite.

  “Don’t drink the juice,” Falcon said.

  “Why not?”

  “Something about peach juice left in a can. It’s bad for you.”

  Megan smiled. “If you want the juice, Falcon, just ask for it. They’re your peaches, after all.”

  “I want the juice,” Falcon said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” She handed the can back to him, and Falcon turned it up to drain the rest of the juice.

  “Hey, you two, come in here,” Morgan called. “We found something.”

  When Falcon and Megan went back inside, they saw a wedding ring lying on the ticket counter.

  “Mary Kate’s ring!” Megan said, moving quickly to pick it up. She looked inside. “Yes! Here’s her initials, MKM.”

  “Bless her heart, she’s doing everything she can to help us,” Matthew said.

  “Yes, she is,” Falcon said. “And I feel really good about our chances of finding her. This girl is a fighter.”

  “I wish there had been some way she could have let us know where they went,” Morgan said.

  “Chances are she didn’t even know where they were going,” Falcon said.

  “But with that many horses traveling together, it should be easy enough to track them.”

  Ackerman and his men had bivouacked the night before at the foot of Bray’s Butte. They had gotten under way just after sunrise this morning and had been on the trail for nearly an hour when Les Waters, who was riding point, came galloping back. Ackerman held up his hand, and the column stopped.

  “What is it, Waters?” Ackerman asked.

  “I found us a resupply point, Major,” Waters said. “No more ’n a mile ahead.”

  “Personnel at the target?”

  “Looks like just two, a man and his wife.”

  “Very good. Return to the point; keep the target under observation until we arrive. Make certain there are no more people there than the two you have reported.”

  “Yes, sir,” Waters said. Turning his horse, he galloped back up the trail.

  “Men, we are about to engage,” Ackerman said to the column. “I believe there will only be one man and one woman at our objective. We will take care of them, quickly, then resupply ourselves from whatever they have in their personal larder. Be vigilant as we approach.”

  “What does he mean when he says you will take care of them quickly?” Mary Kate asked Casey.

  “That’s none of your concern, missy,” Casey said. “Your only concern is to stay with us. And if there is any shooting, stay as close to me as you can.”

  “Shooting? Why would there be shooting?”

  “Stay close,” Casey said without responding directly to Mary Kate’s question.

  “Sergeant Casey!” Ackerman called back.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Bring the column forward at a trot.”

  “Yes, sir,” Casey replied. “Column, at a trot, forward, ho!”

  The column of two broke into a trot and caught up with Waters within a few minutes.

  “Have you maintained constant observation?” Ackerman asked.

  “Yes, sir. Still only two people. The man is over there, working on the corral fence, do you see? The woman is still in the . . . no, there she goes, sir. She’s got a bucket and she’s headed for the barn. Looks to me like she’s goin’ to do her mornin’ milkin’.”

  “Sergeant Casey, we’ll advance on the house in platoon front position,” Ackerman said.

  “Troop!” Casey called. “Form front right!”

  All the horses in Ackerman’s Raiders moved in line, side by side, stretched out ten wide.

  “Bugler, sound the charge!” Ackerman called.

  Powell played the charge and twelve horses thundered across the ground headed for the house. There were twelve horses in the attack, because Mary Kate had no choice. Casey was holding her reins, and she was holding on to the saddle horn.

  Upon hearing the sound of galloping horses, and the bugle call of “Charge,” Clyde Byrd who was working on his corral fence turned to see what was happening. At first he was so flabbergasted at seeing what appeared to be a cavalry charge that he had no fear. He had only curiosity. He started toward them, wondering what they were doing.

  Byrd’s confusion was short-lived, however. He saw every rider but one draw their pistols. Then he was shocked to see that the pistols were all pointed at him.

  “Here! What are you . . . ?”

  Several guns barked at the same time, and Byrd went down with at least three bullets in his body.

  Emma Byrd came running out of the barn. “Clyde! Clyde!”

  “Shoot the woman!” Ackerman shouted.

  “No! No!” Mary Kate screamed. “Run, run!”

  Again several guns roared, and Emma went down under the fusillade.

  The charge halted, and the riders milled around in the yard between the small house and the barn.

  “Troop, recover!” Ackerman called.

  Again the riders formed into a column of twos.

  “Prepare to dismount . . . dismount!”

  As one, the riders dismounted.

  “Sergeant, foragers for eggs, meat, flour, coffee.”

  Mary Kate dismounted and hurried over to look at the man who had been shot. It took little more than a glance to see that he was dead. She ran to the woman next, and she was still gasping for breath. Mary Kate took her hand, and the woman looked up at her with a pained and confused expression on her face.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Mary Kate said as tears streamed down her face. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

  The woman took a few more gasping breaths, then she stopped breathing, her mouth and eyes still open.

  “How could you do this?” Mary Kate shouted. “How could you? You were an army officer! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  “Mary Kate, do you think we never killed Indian squaws? And children, too,” Ackerman said. “Why would this be any different? Ask your father, and he will tell you. In any arm
y the mission is paramount. Casualties are secondary.”

  “What possible mission would require you to kill an innocent man and woman?”

  “Why, you are the mission, of course,” Ackerman said easily. “The mission is to hold you captive until such time as your father pays the ransom for your release.” He laughed. “So, since you are the mission, you might say that you are responsible for the death of these two people.”

  “Ya hoo! Ham, boys! They have six big smoked hams!” Jerrod shouted.

  “And bacon!” Smith added.

  “I am not responsible,” Mary Kate said, shaking her head and clenching her fists. “I am not responsible.”

  “Of course you are. Oh, but don’t blame yourself. As I said, the exigencies of the mission required quick and positive action.”

  “You are a beast,” Mary Kate said.

  “General Butler was called a beast, my dear. And General Sherman was called a butcher. It is part of war.”

  “War? This is no war!”

  “Oh, but it is,” Ackerman said. “It is a war between your father and me.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Falcon and the others spent the night at the way station, then started out the next morning. By mutual agreement, Falcon was leading them because he was the best tracker. In truth, though, this trail was so obvious that any one of the five of them could have followed it. There were many hoofprints, and the trail was liberally strewn with horse apples. Falcon estimated that there could be as many as a dozen horses.

  “Here’s Ackerman’s first mistake,” Falcon said. “He’s keeping them in a military formation, column of twos. It not only makes it easier to track him, it also identifies him. Who else but Ackerman is going to go across country in such a precise formation?”

  They reached a ranch house at midmorning.

  “Let’s stop here so I can use the privy,” Megan suggested.

  “There you go,” Morgan teased. “Wanting special treatment ’cause you’re a woman. Ha, can’t stand up and pee against a tree like we can, can you? It’s not too late for you to turn around and go back, you know.”