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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
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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
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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.
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"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
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internal warring to deflect any attention from himself.
Shouldn't be too difficult.
"Shit!" he cursed loudly as a sudden explosion of sound in the otherwise quiet
room caused some of the maids to start in their task around the table.
"Is there a problem, master?" one of them asked in honeyed tones.
Baron Silas Hunter had stopped pacing the room and was looking out of the
iron-
clad window at the people of Salvation going about their business. All of
this, built with his own hands and with good faith, now in danger. Yeah, there
was a problem.
But instead, he merely answered, "No, go about your business," in a curt and
dismissive tone.
And he would go about his.
IT TOOK the companions all day to prepare themselves. Although they knew that
this would in all probability be the culminative day of their time at
Salvation, they also knew that they couldn't show this to anyone else in the
sec camp. So after they had rested and eaten, they retired to their tent to
prepare and clean their blasters for the night ahead, also taking the
opportunity to work out and exercise, priming themselves for what was to come.
In the late afternoon, Ryan made his first move.
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"Okay people, time to get this clear," he said simply, adding, "J.B., keep a
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lookout for anyone who could come near enough to hear."
"Think they may be on to something, lover?" Krysty asked.
"No," the one-eyed man grunted, "but I don't want to risk anything being
overheard by accident and getting back to McVie and Myall. I'm sure they're
not in on anything the baron has up his sleeve, but I don't want them
blundering in on anyone's side, no matter how well meaning they may be."
Doc nodded. "It will be hard enough to effect this action as it is, without
any outside influence."
Mildred shook her head and laughed. "Always use too many words, Doc."
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