The Armorer took off his spectacles and polished them. “Let’s get to it, then. Quicker we move, less suspicious they’ll be at the redoubt.”
“Right,” Ryan agreed. “You explain to the others and to Gloria. I need to talk to Robertson. We’ll need his help, and it’s about time he was put in the picture, considering what those coldhearts have done to his ville.”
J.B. didn’t bother to answer. With a brief nod he was already about his task before Ryan’s last word had died away.
Chapter Eight
“Ryan, you wanna tell us what the fuck that was all about, and how come you got some of those fancy blasters that those coldheart bastards had? And another thing, what the fuck is going on here with all these naked women running about beating the shit out of everyone and what the fuck does this have to do with the fact that my ville is getting shot to shit by that ugly bastard disease that Hector can’t stop and—”
“Whoa, slow down, there!” The one-eyed man held up his hands in an imprecation of surrender as the baron continued to talk loudly and at a rapid pace. The normally laid back Robertson was highly agitated and animated, which, Ryan had to admit to himself, was hardly surprising after the events of the past few hours. But now it was Ryan’s task to try to calm him down so they could talk rationally about what was going on.
“You don’t tell the baron to slow down when you’ve just shot the fuck out of the main drag,” Yardie raged. The fat man waddled across the room, his face flushed and angry, eyes bulging, until he was right in Ryan’s face and the one-eyed warrior could smell the man’s bad body odor and spirit soaked breath.
“And you don’t do that to me,” Ryan answered with an icy calm and a voice so low that it was barely audible. “If you want to talk about this in a reasonable manner, then we will. I came here to put you in the picture, after all. But if you want to play it hard, then I’ll break your fucking neck before talking to the baron. Do you understand me, Yardie?”
The fat man wilted visibly before Ryan, his eyes registering the cold look on the man’s scarred face.
“Yeah, well, I suppose you should have a chance to explain what’s been going down,” the fat sec man mumbled, backing off.
“Good,” Ryan said. “Now, if you’ll let me explain without butting in, then I can tell you the whole story, and what we need from you in the way of help.”
Robertson nodded. “Okay, you always seemed kinda straight, so I guess the least I can do is hold my tongue till you’ve finished.”
Ryan began to tell the baron and the fat sec man about the Illuminated Ones, and how his people and the Gate had ended up in the vicinity of Crossroads. He was, as ever, careful to avoid mentioning the redoubts and the mat-trans. He did, however, sketch in as much background detail as possible about the Illuminated Ones and their plans to take over the land. Much of this was still guesswork, but he presented it as fact in order to gain the ear of the baron.
Not that it seemed necessary. Robertson’s daughter—the first to contract the disease after being taken by the Illuminated Ones—was dead, and her corpse, along with all the others that had amassed since the disease had taken hold, had been burned on the advice of Hector, who had obviously taken in all that Mildred had told him about such diseases. The baron was still carrying the pain from this, and it had cut him deeper than he was willing to admit. Whatever it took to end this horror, he was willing to take his part.
“So, you tellin’ me that you can get into their strong hold and wipe these motherfuckers out?”
“Got to.”
Robertson sat back, shaking his head, for a moment lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he spoke. “You reckon this plan of yours will actually work?”
Ryan shrugged. “It’s our only chance. If we act quickly, then they may well figure that the damaged wag took a little longer to limp home. Me and J.B. had a look at the comps and electrics on the wag, and the radio system is shot, so they won’t expect a radio response if they call us up when we get near. I figure they’ll have sec cameras around the entrance to the redoubt, and they’ll see the wag come up alone, and want to let us in. The Gate and anyone else who wants a firefight against these bastards—” he directed a glare at the now less belligerent and still silent Yardie “—will come up at a distance, using cover. The Gate know that land by now, and they’ll keep everyone out of sight.”