by Nancy Osa
Rob spoke to Jools. “There’s no way the Thunder Boys could’ve done this, is there?”
The quartermaster shook his head. “Believe me, I’ve made it my life’s work to keep them busy. I’ll vouch for them.”
Rob turned back to Gaia. “Don’t touch those tracks. I’ll tell you if I learn anything more. And Delegate . . . we appreciate the support.”
“You have it, Captain.”
At least they hadn’t lost any UBO affiliates. But they still had to gain some. Rob told Jools, Kim, and Stormie to prepare for a trail ride whenever Frida and Turner got back from their mission.
*
Rob practically counted the seconds until their return. He acted so jittery that Kim asked him to work with her and Redstone to help him forget his worries, at least for a little while. The shiny red filly found everything they asked her to do new and exciting. Seeing her decide to cross a scary box full of rocks reminded the cowboy of his old life and the pony he’d been training when his vacation had suddenly been extended.
“You and I should go into business together,” Kim said, half-joking. “They say you should work at what you love.”
Rob regarded the filly, which was playfully nosing around an old spider eye. “Well, it’s nice to know I’ll have a job waiting for me when my enlistment is up.”
The absorbing activity helped fill the hours until, late one afternoon, the absent troopers rode in. Rob made sure he was there to meet them, and he made a big enough fuss to alert everyone in camp to their return. So, Kim, Stormie, Jools—and Rose and Gratiano—were there to welcome Turner and Frida, too.
“Sorry to let you rest only briefly, troopers,” Rob said. “We’ll be leaving again on a trail ride just after mess call.”
This interested Rose, who had attached herself to Turner’s arm. “A moonlight ride? How romantic! Can I go with you, Turnie? Can I? Gratiano could come along and strum for us.”
“But . . . you don’t ride, sweetums. Fact is, you told me horses smell like poop, and they bite.”
“They probably just bite you,” Stormie muttered.
“Sorry, no civilians,” Rob said, ending the debate. “Company business.”
“What kind of business?” Rose switched her tractor-beam gaze on him.
Stormie reached out and took Rose’s chin firmly in her hand and turned her head away. “Private company business,” she said, avoiding eye contact.
“Or as private as zombie killing can be,” Rob added. “We’ll be back before daylight . . . or whenever the zombies give out.”
Stymied, Rose stood there tapping a purple-heeled foot after the troopers moved off. She had no choice but to stay behind, along with Gratiano and anyone else who didn’t want to make a show of pursuing them.
After dinner, the six horse soldiers mounted up and rode out of civilian earshot for a debriefing. Rob ordered Stormie to lead them west, away from the grounds of their skeleton hunt—and Rob’s encounter with the mob boss. When they reached a suitable spot, the captain called for a horse huddle, and the debriefing began.
First, he and Jools described the conversations with Aswan and Gaia. Aswan’s latest message pointed to Rose or Gratiano being either the griefer spy or reporting to an unidentified one. This meant that one or both of the settlers were untrustworthy.
Frida took this news with silent acceptance. Turner did not.
“There ain’t a dishonest bone in that woman’s body!” he argued.
Jools snorted. “Let’s see. How many men does Rose have catering to her whims right now?” He pretended to run out of fingers, counting.
Stormie brought up Rose’s demanding attitude. “How come she wants so much? First a job, then a penthouse . . .”
Rob murmured, “. . . and some suspicious crafting ingredients.” He looked at Turner. “I hate to break this to you, Sergeant, but she’s been playing you. Where I come from—”
“Hey! Spare me your conspiracy theories, Newbie. Ya can’t con a con man. If there’s a mole out there, it ain’t Rose.” He folded his arms decisively. “And, guess what: nobody knows where they come from. That ‘world’ of yours? Mebbe it ain’t there at all. Could be you’ve been in this game from the get-go.”
This shocked Rob into silence.
“Don’t listen to him, Captain,” Stormie said quietly. “He’s just yankin’ your chain.”
“Everybody’s got a past,” Kim asserted.
“Yeah, but not everybody’s got a future,” Turner spit out. “Leastways, not here. I ain’t gettin’ paid for this.” He picked up the reins, spun Duff around, and took off for camp.
Frida backed Ocelot up, at the ready.
“Let him go, Corporal,” Rob said. “He can’t get in any deeper than he already is.”
After an awkward moment, Rob asked Frida how their trip had gone.
“Not so hot on the shakedown,” she admitted. “Our farmer friend can’t be in the top tier of any alliance. She has pieces of info but not the whole puzzle. Don’t worry, though, Captain. We questioned her in such a way that she didn’t learn anything from us.”
“Good,” Rob said.
“Not good,” Jools countered. “That means we’re stuck where we were before. This Volt person could be working for Lady Craven or Bluedog, or could be a lone opportunist.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Stormie pointed out. “We know one of the bigs is targeting Beta. Even if Volt is carrying information to them from our mole, the result is the same.”
“Exactly,” Kim agreed. “They basically know where we live. We’re a target—and either the Griefer Imperial Army or some other gang is coming for us.”
“Isn’t that what we wanted, Captain?” Frida said. “It’s why we quit running. To give Lady Craven and her types a bull’s-eye, instead of us chasing them all over. Right?”
“Right. Well, it is, and it isn’t.” Rob rubbed his eyes wearily. “We didn’t expect to have a city full of people here when they attacked us.”
Now that the mole or moles had been exposed, the captain could tell his troopers how grave the situation was. He recounted his episode with the mob boss and what he’d found in his subterranean “nest.”
“Those do sound like the makings for a bomb,” Stormie said worriedly. “Do you think he’ll use it to upset Beta’s grand opening?”
Kim did. “A bomb at a public ribbon-cutting would send a loud message to the rest of the biomes.”
“But all is not lost,” Rob said. “The good news is, if we can defuse that little problem, we are on the cusp of a new, unified Overworld.”
“How so?”
“Frida?” Rob prompted.
“The captain asked Turner and me to make a few pit stops on our way back. We managed to sign the next six northern biomes . . . although several villagers mentioned Volt’s name—they said he’d threatened to burn their towns if they voted with the UBO. But, their delegates are strong. They claim the people are a hundred percent for unification.”
“Even with the intimidation?” a skeptical Jools asked.
Frida nodded. “Because of it.”
“But now Rose will find out about your biome outreach,” Kim said.
“Yes, Turner’s not known for his tact,” Jools observed.
“That’s okay,” Rob said. “We want her to find out about it. She’ll report back to the boss, forcing him to act prematurely. We can’t really do anything until he comes out in the open.”
“And we’ll be ready for him,” Stormie said.
“We will be ready. The Beta celebration and ribbon-cutting will go on as planned. This will draw whatever fire is planned for us.” Rob looked at Frida. “Vanguard, I want you to relay the news about the city inauguration to Gratiano. Unless I miss my guess, he’ll forward it to the head honcho.”
Frida considered the request to rat out her sweetheart. Then she said, “Seems like we all have to put something on the line if we want to win this battle.”
Rob could see that she’d been hurt. M
isplacing trust was a mistake the survivalist did not take lightly. But denial was not her style.
“Okay, sir,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
CHAPTER 14
WHEN THE SPLINTERED BATTALION GOT BACK to cavalry camp, Frida went to find Gratiano and plant the information that would set their fate in motion. But she came back to the bunkhouse having been unable to locate him.
“It’s late,” Rob said. “Where is he?”
“I can tell ya that.” Turner entered the room and plopped down in a chair next to the furnace. “Rose’s penthouse.” He blew out a heavy breath. “They run off together.”
Rob noticed the uncommonly dejected expression on the sergeant’s face. He knew that look—and that feeling. They were the same ones he’d witnessed when some cowboy got thrown from a bronc—or when he did.
“That stinks!” Kim cried. “Using sweetness as a weapon.”
“Or, in Rose’s case, a reasonable facsimile of sweetness,” Jools said.
Turner was feeling sorry for himself again. “I don’t mind tellin’ ya, I’m . . . real sad. I believed in that woman.”
“Which is just what she wanted,” Stormie said darkly.
Frida reached over and put a hand on Turner’s mountain biome tattoo. “Don’t worry about it, Meat. I got hit, too.”
“Yeah, well. I notice you ain’t cryin’.”
“That’s because I’ve got a better idea.” She gave him a wicked grin. “Don’t get sad; get mad.”
“You mean, fight back?”
“Best thing we can do is take the big boss down.”
This rocked him out of his wallow. He looked at her a moment, then made up his mind. “Amen, sister. Amen.”
The captain smiled to himself, thinking that Colonel M would be proud of this outcome. Rob should have known that his troopers would rise to the occasion. When Frida and Turner got mad, there was no stopping them. To them, anger management involved an arsenal of weapons and a visit to their enemies. Letting them mow down any griefers in their path would simply be allowing nature to take its course.
“Count me in!” said Kim, eager to defend her friends’ honor.
Again, Rob would have to defer to his trooper’s natural talents. He was through worrying when this griefer would strike. It was time to invite a battle.
Rob crafted some lengths of paper and asked Stormie for her brushes and dyes. Then he made up some banners, which read:
BETA CITY CELEBRASHUN
Celebriddy Appearanses
Ribbon Cutting
Perade – Games – Firewerks
TWO DAYS ONLY
STARTS TOMORROW AT DUSK
“How does that look?” he asked Jools when he finished three identical signs.
Jools quickly scanned them. “Well . . . you spelled dusk correctly.”
This was good enough for the captain.
“Shall I have some of the village children hang them?”
“Yes. We’ve got plenty to do before then. Stormie, announce to the settlers that move-in day will take place after the party and inauguration. That’ll keep them safely in camp watching the fireworks while we root out the city’s . . . infestation. Then the judge and colonel will be in the clear for ribbon-cutting the next day. Oh, and Stormie, get to work on your boom-booms, too. We’ll want some live rounds in addition to the fireworks.”
“Ten-four, Captain.”
“Jools,” Rob continued. “Run those images of the new minecart track by the Thunder Boys. See if they have any clues. We’ve got to be able to fend off whatever might be coming our way from that end before we go underground. And we’ll need some enchantments to boost our kill power.”
“On it,” the quartermaster acknowledged.
“Kim, get some help washing and grooming horses for the parade . . . and putting up decorations. Even if the event is a front for our counterattack, we do want to make a good impression for the UBO.”
The horse master nodded. “I’ve been crafting fancy saddle blankets with a city crest on them. We can hang matching bunting on the main street.”
“You’ll be in charge of diverting attention, then. Can you put on one of your circus acts with the horses before the fireworks?”
“You bet. I’ll add in some audience participation. Everybody’ll be on the edge of their seats.”
“Right on.” Now Rob relayed his most daring part of the plan. “Frida, Turner. We need to find out where the silverfish are holing up and exterminate them.”
Frida stared at him in disbelief. “You know that silverfish and I . . . don’t get along.”
“That’s exactly why I’ve chosen you for the job. No one hates those bugs as much as you do.” She couldn’t argue with that. “De Vries and Crash will be patrolling the site as wolves after hours. They’ll let us in.” He pushed back from the dining table. “Let’s get word to the judge and colonel to get their ribbon-cutting program together. If we’re to have the proper cover, this ‘party’ has got to look authentic.”
The captain wanted to bring up the subject of spawn points once more, but he couldn’t very well ask for what he hadn’t yet done himself. There was still time, though.
“And, battalion.” Rob put his hands on the table and leaned over for a final word. “Put your free time to good use. I want every sword in our inventory sharpened, enchanted, and ready to go by tonight.”
*
The city began to take on a festive air with banners, flags, and flowers hung for all to see. The repaired high-rise buildings awaited their first inhabitants. The capitol complex, now about three-quarters complete, was gaining personality. Decorative steps, pillars, and De Vries’s intricately cut windows distinguished the main building as a seat of government.
Back in camp, booths for food and game vendors had been set up. Stormie and Kim were doing a good job of drawing attention to the celebration itinerary, which Rob knew would filter through Rose and Gratiano to the proper griefer contacts. Jools had the Thunder Boys analyzing the minecart rail system to try to determine what sort of outside threat might be in the works. Rob met with Judge Tome and Colonel M to see if he’d neglected anything.
He found them together, practicing their speeches in the conference room.
“Have you neutralized our moles yet?” the judge asked.
Rob shook his head. “They’re unaware that we know their identities, so they might still be valuable to us.”
“That is a point in your favor,” Colonel M said. “You are wise to play them for their usefulness rather than to seek revenge.”
Rob gave a wry smile. “I can’t guarantee how long that’ll last. My troopers want them to pay for their deception.”
The colonel rolled his head in acknowledgement. “Rose and Gratiano still have the ear of your target. Perhaps threatening their lives will help you identify this griefer and reveal his motives, once and for all.”
“You mean torture?”
“That would be against the Overworld’s articles of war,” Judge Tome counseled. “Besides, sophisticated means of extracting information would be wasted on those tabulae rasae.”
Colonel M agreed. “They are a couple of clean slates. Once you get past their overconfident facades, they really are quite simple underneath.”
“What do you suggest then?”
Colonel M chuckled. “Scare them.”
Rob thought this advice over. He could give the two moles what they deserved and throw their boss off track long enough to get in and out of the mines safely. If he accomplished that, the battalion would be well situated to put a swift end to the griefer plot.
He asked Jools to have the Thunder Boys program a minecart and station it at the city gate. Then he rounded up Frida and Turner. “I have another job for you. I think you’ll enjoy it.”
Rose’s decorating contract had not yet been cancelled. She had taken to working from her posh penthouse, and Gratiano was now playing go-fer. Frida and Turner would be able to use him to get to her. The two sur
vivalists waited and watched the entrance to ROSE 1 from a blind they made in the farm’s growing pumpkin patch. Then they saw the opportunity they were waiting for.
As the corrupt musician carried an armload of wool rugs into the high-rise, they left the blind and trailed him at a discreet distance. Silently, they followed him upstairs to the top floor. He balanced the bulky load and fumbled for the door.
“About time!” snapped Rose as he entered. “I’ve been waiting.”
“Begging your pardon, my rose petal. I do apologize. Please forgive me,” Gratiano said. “It won’t happen again.”
“You’re darn tootin’ it won’t,” Turner said ominously. He and Frida slipped inside. She slammed the door shut behind them, and Turner pulled his diamond axes from their shoulder holsters.
The two unarmed players stared at them.
“Thought you could throw me over for another man, did you?” Turner accused Rose.
Frida drew the special double-bladed sword that the battalion had commissioned for her after their last campaign—diamond on one side and gold on the other. She flew across the room and planted it at Gratiano’s jugular vein. “You weren’t in love with me. You were planning all along to use me up and throw me out like last night’s trash.”
“I-I was well paid for it,” Gratiano blustered. “I was low on gems. I needed the money. You wouldn’t fault a man for trying to make a living, would you?”
Frida snarled and shoved her blade against his neck. “Dying ain’t much of a living, boy.”
“And you,” Turner snapped at Rose. “How much was you gettin’ to make me out the fool?”
She raised her hands in the air, giving him a rancid look. “Not enough, it seems.”
“Well, it’s payback time now. He flipped his axes through the air. P-lack! Th-wack! The blades sliced through the sleeves of her purple blouse and pinned her skin to the paneled wall.
Her bravado melted away. “Wh-what are you going to do with us?”
“I’ma send you two on a little vacation,” Turner said with false charm in his voice.
“Somewhere you won’t be coming back from anytime soon,” Frida added. “But first, Gratiano, I think you need a little haircut.” Her blade flashed, removing a hunk of his cascading locks and returning to his throat.
