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toppled.
Another raised his longblaster and Dean flipped his
Bowie knife into the man's stomach, making him drop the blaster. Then Ryan
stroked the trigger on the SIG-
Sauer and the guard flipped backward minus a face.
"Take the bows," Krysty directed, tugging a quiver of
bolts from the trembling arm of a corpse. "Once we start shooting, all hell is
going to break loose."
"Has already," Ryan muttered, slitting the throat of a guard who was somehow
still alive.
"A silenced blaster," Sparrow whispered. "You folks work for the Trader!"
"Close enough," J.B. stated, watching the windows along the street while
Mildred took the other crossbow and a second quiver. The stock seemed to be
whittled from a house beam, the cross hammered from a steel leaf-spring out of
a car. She had seen similar homemade weapons before. They were crude,
cumbersome and extremely powerful.
"Is he coming?" the man asked eagerly. "Going to do
Gaza and Hawk? Be glad to help there."
"Go find your dog," Ryan ordered.
Moving around the sprawled bodies, Sparrow took off after the animal, with the
companions close behind.
Raised voices were heard in the distance, but they moved away from the group
heading for the keep.
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Oddly, the area was starting to look familiar when
Ryan saw the dog start for a redbrick building without doors or windows.
"Dark night, this is the rear of the temple!" J.B. said.
"Call him back now!" Ryan ordered brusquely.
Sparrow whistled and the dog stopped, looking back at his master, then turned
and trotted back.
"So that's where he is," Sparrow said hoarsely.
"They got him in the temple. Might as well leave. Most likely he's aced
already. Or worse."
"What do you mean 'worse'?" J.B. demanded.
"Blood for water," Sparrow said, quoting the ville mantra. "But I also hear
the Scorpion God likes it spiced with screams."
Doc was in a torture chamber? Shitfire. Ryan swung around his blaster until it
pointed at Sparrow. In spite of the evening chill, the fat man started to
sweat.
"You kept your part of the deal," Ryan said gruffly.
"So we keep ours. Now leave before I change my mind."
Sparrow nodded energetically and took off at a run down the street, Houston
tagging along behind his corpulent master.
"If he talks, we're dead," J.B. said, tracking their departure with the Uzi
machine gun.
Ryan turned from the man and the dog. "He wouldn't do anything until he's set
his brother free, and then they'll have to discuss whether they should side
with Trader or Gaza."
"Say, fifteen minutes."
"Mebbe ten."
Staying in the shadows as much as possible, the companions moved around to the
front of the building and studied the two guards at the door. Both were large
men holding bolt action longblasters, with a muzzle loading pistol tucked into
their belts. They were smoking cigs and appeared bored.
"No other doors," Krysty said, her hair a wild tempest of motion as her hands
tightened on the crossbow. "We have to go in this way."
"No problem," Ryan said, removing the half-spent clip from the SIG-Sauer and
gently inserting a fresh one.
Suddenly a bell began to ring from the keep and the guards jumped at the
sound, casting away their smokes to slide their blasters off their shoulders
and work the bolts.
"Shitfire, that must be the ville alarm," J.B. cursed, ducking lower into the
shadows.
"A single shot from them, and we'll have the whole ville coming down our
throats," Dean added, glancing around. Lights were appearing from behind
closed windows. "Whatever we're going to do better be soon."
"We move on my mark," Ryan growled, steadying the SIG-Sauer in both hands.
"Ready& go."
Stepping into plain view, Mildred clicked on the nukelamp, bathing the two
guards in its blinding light.
Covering their faces, the men cursed as Krysty and Jak used the crossbows. The
bolts took the men in the throats, neutralizing any chance of them crying out
in pain. Gagging on their own blood, the guards staggered drunkenly about as
the companions rushed across the open courtyard and finished the job with
knifes. It was brutal and messy, but there was no other choice.
Jak and Dean pushed the bodies against the wall, while Ryan tried the door. It
was locked tight. The one-
eyed man got out of the way as J.B. rummaged in his munitions bag for some
tools and got to work. The rest of the companions nervously stood around the
man, watching the windows and side streets for any movements. The alarm bell
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continued to sound from the keep.
"Barred from the inside," the Armorer said in frustration. "No way to open
this without using a gren."
For a long moment, Ryan stared hostilely at the door as if it were a living
enemy. "Give me the sword,"
he demanded.
Jak passed over the ebony stick. Unsheathing the blood smeared blade, Ryan
wiggled the point between the door and the frame. It took some muscle, but he
finally got the slim steel to slide all the way through, then he pulled it
upward in a hard jerk.
There was a crash inside and the door swung open a crack.
"Bring them," Ryan directed, slipping into the building with the SIG-Sauer
leading the way.
The companions dragged in the bodies of the chilled sec men, leaving behind a
wide crimson trail. But there was nothing they could do about that. Inside the
temple oil lanterns burned in wall niches, illuminating a large empty room
decorated with a wall tapestry of a blue scorpion. There was nothing else but
a gate made of slim iron bars sealing off an arched doorway.
Reaching high, Mildred pulled down the tapestry and stepped outside to mop up
the excess blood on the stoop, while J.B. went to work on the gate. As the
physician came back in and tossed aside the gory cloth, there was a solid
click and J.B. pushed open the gate.
"Hey, what was that?" a man called out from a dark corridor. "Who are you
folks?"
Stepping through the archway, Ryan fired the silenced weapon directly into the
unseen face. The blaster coughed, its muzzle-flash lighting the corridor for a
heartbeat, and the man jerked backward as an explosion of blood and brains
slapped against the brick wall. As the dead guard crumpled to the floor, the
rest of the companions rushed past the gate, and J.B.
locked it in their wake. That should buy them a few minutes, but not much
more.
"From here on, it's chillin' time," Ryan said low and fast. "Ace anybody you
see. All we're interested in is finding Doc."
Jak passed the crossbow to Dean. "Ready," the albino teen said, drawing a
knife with each hand.
The brick corridor was lined with more tapestries that were barely discernible
in the yellowish light of the hissing lanterns. A set of double doors closed
off the end, and Ryan placed his ear to the wood. There were some muffled
voices, a laugh and then the telltale crack of a whip followed by a cry of
pain.
"That's Doc," Krysty stated, bringing up the crossbow.
Slamming open the door, Ryan withheld firing as
Mildred clicked on the nukelamp, filling the next room with harsh white light.
As the three sec men lowered their whips, the companions opened fire in unison
with every weapon. The men reeled at the incoming lead and arrows, died on the
spot torn to pieces.
Walking into the vast room, Ryan felt a shiver go through his bones. This was
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