“The sec men will go crazy hunting down the escapees. Without the hostages, Overton is powerless.”
“Allowing us to get Overton,” Clem added, cracking a smile. “Told you it was easy.”
“I’ll ask the staff to bring me lots of hot water for tea,” Mildred said, dragging her medical kit closer and opening the flap. “This is a pregnant woman we’ll be hauling around, and we better be ready for anything. The excitement of a rescue could cause an early birth, depending upon what trimester she’s in.”
Then she closed the flap. “No, damn it, I can’t ask for hot water. They know I’m a healer. It’s too suspicious.”
“White sheets,” Jak said, pointing at the bed.
Dean and Krysty moved off the bed, as Mildred yanked off the blankets and closely inspected the sheets. “Lightly bleached, no starch. These will do fine,” she decided. “But I’ll also need some clean twine and a sterile knife. Jak?”
The teenager produced a slim blade. “Sharpest I got.”
J.B. donated a spare bootlace, as the companions sliced the bedsheets into usable pieces. Mildred carefully stored them in her bag as swaddling for the newborn, while Jak cleansed the knife blade over a candle flame. That, too, was wrapped in the clean cloth and tucked into the bag.
“After we get Tabitha,” Krysty said, “we better hide her someplace good. The sec men will go mad trying to get her back into their custody.”
“What about Daffer?” Clem asked, polishing his longblaster. “He sure owes us. Hide her there. After the sec men let him go, he went to Benton. That hamlet is only ten minutes away by wag.”
Digging in a pocket, Ryan jingled the keys. “Want to ride guard with Mildred?”
“Done so before,” the hunter drawled. Then he winked at the physician. “I think I can stand her for a little bit more.”
Ryan tossed the keys, and the hunter caught them, tucking them into his vest.
“Time is against us,” Ryan said, pushing away the chair. “The longer we stay, the worse the situation gets for Nathan.”
“And after the baron,” J.B. added, “we’re next on the hit list.”
“Only if we fail.” Kneeling on the floor, Ryan used the point of his knife to scratch an outline on the flagstone. “Here is the barracks, the buildings alongside, an alleyway leading to the moat for trash, main street, side street, horse corral and tack room.”
“Open courtyard with almost no cover,” J.B. ruminated sourly. “Going to be tough trying to sneak through the door. Any chance of a roof hatch or a coal chute, something like that?”
“Nothing. The building is as tight as a drum. That’s why it was chosen as the site for the barracks,” Ryan said, resting on his haunches. “But mebbe we don’t have to sneak in. Mebbe we can make them invite us inside.”
“How we going to do that?” Clem asked skeptically. “Ask pretty please?”
“Yes,” Ryan said unexpectedly. “Exactly correct. Hell, they’ll beg us to get inside fast as possible.”
The hill man raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.
“What bothers me,” Krysty said hesitantly, “is how much information Overton has about this place, and about you. Where you used to get laid, the layout of the ville, where to hide Nathan’s wife.”
“There’s a traitor, somebody working with Overton who knows you extremely well and hates Nathan.”
“Yeah,” Ryan growled, low and dangerous. “I know.”
“No idea who?”
The Deathlands warrior stood, the panga tight in his grip, the razor-sharp edge of the blade reflecting candlelight across the people in the bedroom.
“If I knew who,” he muttered, “they’d be dead already.”
“Sure you want in on this, Clem?” J.B. asked the man in the corner. “This is our fight. You can just walk away.”
“Be bloodbath,” Jak agreed.
“Yeah, it sure could. And Bob wouldn’t have helped. Would have said it weren’t none of our biz,” Clem drawled, working the bolt on the Enfield rifle. “But me? I’m just itching to try out this fancy blaster. Six shots! Damn.”
Ryan clapped the man on the shoulder. “Glad to have you with us, amigo.”
“Well, course you are.” Clem grinned. “Shit, who wouldn’t be?”