Without warning, Mildred jerked her arm while Jak flipped his hand. The plate from under the bowl skimmed through the air and smashed into the face of a sailor, and the sec man staggered backward to the wall with a knife in his throat. The attack startled the last man for only a second, but before he could react, Doc lunged forward and buried his blade into the man’s throat, slicing vocal cords and the jugular.
By then Ryan had his piece out and finished them off with a whispering round to the head. The lifeless bodies collapsed to the floor, as Mitchum appeared from the kitchen with a primed flintlock in both hands.
“Run! They know!” the man shouted, then stopped, taking in the scene. “Shitfire, they beat me here.”
Ryan swung his 9 mm pistol toward the man and the two stayed motionless until Mitchum slowly lowered his blasters.
“You have to leave immediately,” Mitchum stated urgently. “I was with the new sec man picking up his things from the dock when a fleet of peteys arrived. Some big caliber named Glassman told us that you’re all wanted by Lord Baron Kinnison, dead or alive. Baron Thayer is closing the ville like screwing the lid on a jar, and wants you trapped in here.”
Mitchum gestured at the corpses. “Those fools must have decided to try and capture you themselves and not share the reward.”
“Has he sealed off the front gate yet?” Ryan asked, his blaster still pointing at the sec chief.
“Blocked solid. You’d never get out that way now.”
“Any other exits?” Krysty demanded, pulling on her backpack.
Mitchum made a sour face and looked away before speaking. “Just one,” he growled, as if there were a bad taste in his mouth. “There’s a secret escape tunnel for the baron. Only Thayer and myself know about it.”
“And them,” J.B. said, gesturing over his shoulder at the sailors in the corner.
With a grim expression, Mitchum suddenly noted the sailors and fired his blasters. The two men slammed into the pink walls, the double booms of the muzzle-loaders rattling the bowls on the tables, and the framed pictures on the walls, making a couple fall to the floor and smash.
“Hated to do that,” the colonel said sadly. “I knew them, good men both. But there was no other way.”
“Is the kitchen staff alive?” Krysty asked.
“They ran away when I walked in with my blaster out.”
“Good.”
“Come with us,” Mildred said, putting the bulky flintlock and ammo pouch on the table, then drawing her .38 ZKR target pistol.
Mitchum sadly shook his head. “Can’t. Thayer will chill my brother and his wife if I’m caught helping you.”
LeMat and sword at the ready, Doc went to the front door and checked outside. The ville was still, no reaction yet to the sounds of battle. Strange, it was almost as if the bookstore was soundproof.
“So, where is the exit?” Ryan demanded, getting rid of his own excess weapons. Then he holstered the SIG-Sauer and unwrapped the Steyr from his bedroll.
“Go to the baron’s home. There’s a locked latrine on the south side. That’s a fake. Ladder inside leads down to a tunnel. That’s the only way out, aside from the front gate.”
“Any traps?” J.B. demanded, working the bolt on the Uzi.
“None that I know of.”
“Thank you,” Krysty said in earnest.
“Just paying his debt,” Ryan said, working the bolt on the longblaster to chamber a round, then sliding it over a shoulder. Drawing the SIG-Sauer, he pointed it at Mitchum. “Where do you want it?” he asked brusquely.
“Leg,” the colonel replied tightening his jaw, then added, “And this makes us even! The slate is clean. We meet again, I’ll ace your ass like any other invader threatening my ville.”
“Fair enough,” Ryan said, then shot the sec men in the outermost part of the thigh, well away from the bone or major arteries.
As Mitchum fell, slapping a hand on the wound to staunch the flow of blood, Ryan shot him again in the upper arm.
“You bastard,” Mitchum groaned, raw hatred contorting his handsome features, both hands busy putting pressure on his wounds.