His heart was pounding with the certainty that the outlander had managed to outthink and outflank them. His men were good, well trained, and their Armalites were kept in tiptop condition. But he’d seen the blasters that Baron Nathan had taken into his collection and knew what they could be capable of, particularly in the wrong hands.
He corrected himself. “Right hands,” he said, unheard by anyone above the thunder and the pounding at the door at the foot of the north tower.
Marie Mandeville was possessed by a terrifying cold rage. She sat her stallion quietly, watching as the mud-soaked sec men attempted to break into their own ville, knowing that it wasn’t possible to communicate with the main force who’d been sent around to the front courtyard entrance. The strong likelihood was that they would have no idea that something had gone grievously wrong at the north flank of Sun Crest.
Rain trickled down her smooth cheeks, dribbling off her chin and onto her gloved hands.
Despite her calm exterior, she was twisted with anger, desperate to have the outlanders taken prisoner so that she could have her way with them. Pay them back for this, for having to sit like a triple-stupe outside her own home in the middle of the worst chem storm in years.
Her fingers tightened on the riding crop, wanting to spur her horse in among the servants and lash them into greater activity. But enough fragments of sanity remained for the woman to know that this wouldn’t be productive. She caught Harry Guiteau’s eye and gestured to him.
“Shoot the fucking door apart!”
Guiteau had also lost patience, ignoring the questioning look from the baron.
“Take out the hinges with the Armalites. Rest keep out of the way.”
It was vital that they didn’t delay any longer. It was difficult, with all the lightning reflecting off the barred windows, but the sec sergeant was certain that he’d seen lamps moving along the weapons gallery. The rifles opened up, shredding the door to white splinters of torn oak.
RYAN WAS ALMOST at Doc’s side when he heard the pounding stop. An indistinct voice shouted an order, then, moments later, came the crackle of gunfire.
“Shooting off the bolt or the hinges. What did you find, Doc?” he asked, seeing the shards of shattered glass on the floor. “Got to be real quick now.”
“But look at this, my dear fellow. Who would have ever thought it possible? I glimpsed it during that eternal flash of chem lightning.”
Now they were all gathered around the delighted old man, who was holding a blaster in his hands, with as much reverence as if it were the original Holy Grail.
“Gaia!” Krysty exclaimed. “It’s a Le Mat, isn’t it? Just like the one you lost.”
“Not like the one he lost,” J.B. said. “This one is What’s the card say?”
Mildred picked it out carefully, avoiding the jagged edges of the display cases, angling it to the lamp so that she could read the cribbed script.
“Says that this is the General Stuart Le Mat. Commemorative limited edition model, made in 1987. Numbered from one to five hundred. With twenty-four karat gold on many of its surfaces. To remember the indomitable spirit of the ‘last cavalier,’ J. E. B. Stuart. Then there’s some technical bit about the two barrels and firing one round of 18-gauge and nine rounds of .44 caliber.”
“One you lost fired .36s, Doc.,” the Armorer said. “So you got even more punch.”
“There was a box of ammo for both barrels,” the old man told them. “I filled my pockets with them.”
Ryan admired the blaster. Along the scattergun barrel, the lower one, was the golden name of “Gen. J. E. B. Stuart” and the capital letters CS on the cylinder, along with various dates from the life of the famous Civil War commander. Also in gold were crossed swords and some delicate acanthus bordering.
“Loaded?”
“Indeed, John Barrymore, it is,” Doc said proudly. “I made certain of that.”
“Then keep a good hold on it. Sounds like you’re going to be using it real soon.”
RYAN HAD LOCKED and bolted both the outer and inner doors, expecting the hunters to track them down quickly. In fact, it had taken several invaluable minutes longer than he’d figured. Now they all had their blasters, and it sounded like the sec men still weren’t inside the ville.
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