“Baron Cawdor,” Nathan said through gritted teeth. “We’re in the middle of something that isn’t your concern.”
“That is incorrect,” Overton replied, marching to the bound man. The firing squad watched him hard, their hands dangerously close to triggers.
Reaching Quinn, the baron drew a .45-caliber Desert Eagle from his belt and shot the prisoner in the face. The muzzle-flash washed over his features, and the man’s head literally exploded, bones, brains and blood splattering the rear wall.
“You dare!” Nathan roared, drawing his own weapon and starting forward, only to grind to a halt as if reaching the end of an invisible rope.
The people murmured angrily among themselves. Only a few scattered voices cheered for the new baron and swift justice.
“Why did you do this?” he asked in a hoarse whisper.
“Typical waste,” Overton shouted to the masses. “Eight bullets used where one would do.”
“Quinn was a sec man and deserved a military execution,” Nathan argued, returning the blaster to its holster with a trembling arm. He released the Glock as if casting it into the sea. “Not being shot like a rabid dog.”
“He was a traitor!” Overton retorted. “His drunkenness put this whole ville in danger of attack by muties. And traitors die.”
The people voiced a hundred opinions, many in agreement.
“As a formerly loyal sec man, he deserved no more than a painless death for his years of service. That he received.” Baron Overton turned to address the confused crowd, and spread his arms. “Can any here say I made him suffer?”
Approving sounds were heard, and somebody started to applaud. More did the same, but it soon died away.
His hands opening and closing at his sides, Nathan drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “No, of course. You’re correct once more. Waste nothing! Including our time. This matter is over. Good day, Baron,” growled Nathan, and stalked from the execution area hunched over against a wind only he could see or feel.
As the firing squad unchained the body, the crowd began to disperse. Mildred and Clem joined the exodus and moved deeper into the throng, staying out of sight of the barons and their troops.
“To hell with waiting, let’s leave now,” Mildred said. “I’ve seen enough.”
“Yeah,” the hunter drawled in agreement. “Stinks worse than skunk shit, don’t it?”
STANDING AS IF ON DISPLAY, Overton stayed where he was, watching the people and studying their reactions. A lot more than usual were listening to him. Soon, he would have no need of Nathan. Suddenly, he noticed a movement coming his way. Overton tensed for battle, but relaxed when he saw it was only his chief sec man, Jian Hwa Ki.
“My lord,” the man said quietly, turning his back to the crowd, “look to the east, near the stove of the blind man.”
Puzzled, Overton scowled in that direction, froze motionless, then slowly grinned. She was with a hunter wearing leather and furs, but it was definitely Dr. Mildred Wyethshort black woman, stocky build, long beaded hair, Olympic target pistol in her belt It couldn’t be anybody else.
Overton took the sec chief by the shoulder and together they walked toward the fortress at an easy gait.
“Excellent work, Jian Hwa. If the physician is here, then Ryan and the others are close.”
“We could detain her,” Jian Hwa suggested.
“Let them leave. She probably came here to recce the ville before the rest dare to come. A very smart move. But soon they will return with Ryan.”
“And then, my lord?”
Overton laughed. “Then, old friend, we slaughter half the ville and finally begin our real work here.”
Chapter Ten
Springing silently from the bushes, the cougar landed on the young buck deer and mauled it to the ground. Sharp white teeth sinking into the animal’s hide, the big cat ripped away a mouthful of flesh from its living prey and swallowed. The cougar started to purr with satisfaction. The cat began to play with its food, raking claws across the hide, letting it crawl away a few yards before pouncing on it again and chewing at its legs. The mutie deer whimpered and cried, which only made the cougar continue its game.