As the raider went stumbling backward, already losing motor control, the first explosive blew. The roof ripped off the wag, and shards of glass went spinning out in a deadly hailstorm.
By the time Jak made the corner of the alley, he was in the saddle again, shaking the brass from the .357 and reloading. He kicked the horse’s sides, urging it forward. He was scanning the street for Ryan when the second wag exploded behind him.
SERGEANT CONTE DECIDED the stealth operation had gone to hell. He didn’t know exactly where things had gone wrong, but they’d been mistaken in thinking that Ryan Cawdor’s presence in the tavern was wholly by invitation.
The sergeant dropped the machine pistol to waist height and sizzled out a blistering arc of 9 mm rounds that tore two gunners from the entrance of the Bent Rose. He took cover behind a rain barrel set in place to catch freshwater runoff from the roof.
Return fire smashed the glass panes from the windows above him and to the side. Mannequins, dressed in refurbished clothing, performed a jerking dance, then vanished over the railing behind them.
Cawdor was in motion around the wags, but Conte couldn’t tell what the man was doing. When the first explosion pealed through the night a moment later from somewhere behind the tavern, he knew.
He also knew Cawdor had taken advantage of the squad’s sudden appearance to make his escape. The men inside the Bent Rose who’d evidently been there to help hold Cawdor and his band under loose house arrest was suddenly returning fire on all fronts.
Conte tagged the headset radio. “Cobra One to Cobra Team. Pull back. Now! We’ve stepped in it here.”
The other members of his team quickly responded, counting down and letting him know they were all still viable.
“Regroup,” Conte ordered. “Cawdor’s making a break. He’ll head for the gate more than likely.”
His men leapfrogged back, not drawing much pursuit.
“Ryan!”
Conte looked over his shoulder and saw the white-haired youth suddenly gallop around the side of the Bent Rose. Cawdor was in motion at once, running for the albino and the horse. Whipping around, Conte brought his Hamp;K MP-5 to bear, thinking he could at least put Cawdor down. Then the jeep in front of the Bent Rose suddenly exploded, bathing the area in a blinding flash of light that caught Conte unprepared.
RYAN DIDN’T HESITATE about approaching Jak. Most of the concussive force from the first charge he’d set was just catching up to him in a searing blast of heat. He knew the second blast was going to be even closer, and it was coming hot on the heels of the initial detonation.
The albino’s hand closed around the one-eyed man’s wrist with wiry strength. Ryan gripped the teenager’s hand and swung himself up behind the saddle. The horse staggered for just a moment under the sudden change in weight, then surged forward.
Bullets chopped pocks in the hard earth of the street.
Jak urged the horse forward, drumming his heels into its sides.
Swinging around behind the albino, Ryan drew a bead on one of Gehrig’s men lying in a prone position on the front eaves of the Bent Rose. The SIG-Sauer in his fist cracked three times in quick succession. Two of the rounds found only the shingles, but the third caught the gunner in the face.
The body pitched from the eaves and landed on top of the second wag in time to be blown straight up again as the plas ex touched off. Some of the raiders had started to get to their feet in front of the tavern, recovering from the initial blast. Many of them went down with the second detonation, hit by the flying debris. The extra fuel tanks aboard the wag became a flaming wave that crashed on the shoals of the Bent Rose’s exterior, bathing it in fire.
“The other horse?” Ryan asked.
“Dead,” Jak answered.
“Krysty and the rest?”
“Go to the gate.”
“Going to be some argument there, too.”
The albino nodded, reining the horse to the right and taking the corner.
Ryan scanned the shadows along the street. Gehrig’s raiders weren’t the only threat the companions had to be concerned about. But he didn’t see any of the soldiers from the White Sands redoubt.