At nearly a half mile across the valley, it wasn’t possible to hear any shouts or screams, but he could watch the silent movie scrolling on.
Instant panic erupted among the gun’s crew as they realized that they were under fire themselves.
Ryan had to keep shooting, before they realized where the bullets were coming from and took cover. He didn’t just want to stop them shooting the long-barreled Oerlikon. It was important to kill as many of the gang of ronin as possible.
He aimed and fired three more spaced shots, seeing three men drop. The samurai had been quickest to react, pointing toward the invisible shootist with a drawn sword, hiding himself behind the body of the revolver cannon.
“Fireblast!” Ryan breathed, annoyed with himself for allowing the man to escape him. The wind had to be a little stronger in the valley than he’d allowed for. But to anyone else, it would have been remarkable shooting to put down four men with four bullets at that range.
“RYAN,” J.B. said, as soon as he heard the cracking echo of the hunting rifle bounce across the valley. “Wonder if he can see us?”
“Still in cover.” Jak looked ahead of them, up the slope. “Another couple minutes and can be among them.”
They heard the booms of three more of the 7.62 mm rounds, snapping through the air not far above their heads, producing screams of pain and shock.
“Doing good,” Mildred said, the ZKR 551 target pistol gripped in her right hand.
“Long as he doesn’t shoot any of us by mistake.” Krysty brushed back her hair from her eyes. “Wind’s freshening, bringing the stink of pollution more strongly.”
Doc discreetly cleared his throat. “Should we not be talking less and moving more?”
J.B. gave the old man the thumbs-up sign. “You’re right, friend,” he said. “Let’s go do it.”
RYAN FIRED TWO MORE SHOTS, but the gun emplacement was almost deserted now.
As far as he could see through the laser enhancer, four dead men lay sprawled around the silent Oerlikon, and one wounded man, who looked to be gut shot, rolled back and forth, his mouth open in a scream of agony.
“Time to move,” Ryan said, starting to climb down from the tree.
The screaming was endless, a long, thin, high, hopeless note that rasped at the nerves.
“Bullet in the belly,” J.B. said, taking the lead from Jak as they climbed within a few yards of the concealed gun emplacement.
“Ryan’s stopped shooting.” Mildred glanced over her shoulder, across the valley. “That mean he’s chilled them all?” She angrily answered her own question. ” ‘Course not, stupid bitch! He took out as many as he could. Rest are hiding.”
“Or coming this way at a run,” Krysty said. “Best all get ready. Expect the unexpected. Isn’t that what Trader used to say, John?”
The Armorer frowned. “No. Can’t say I ever heard him say that.”
“Someone coming,” Jak hissed.
RYAN FOUND Mashashige waiting for him, framed between Hideyoshi and Yashimoto.
The shogun called out as soon as he saw him. “The long gun has fallen into silence. This is your doing, Cawdor-san?”
“Yeah. Tried to get the samurai leading them.”
“My brother, Ryuku?”
“Mebbe. Horned helmet. But I missed him. Got about four or five of the men with the Oerlikon.”
Mashashige nodded. “Now we can follow your companions and hope to harm the ronin.”
Ryan grinned. “Hell, why not?”
THE ACCURACY OF RYAN’S sniping had freaked out the ronin who’d been grouped around the gun. They had known that Mashashige and the outlanders with him were the better part of a half mile away from them, giving them the good sport of safely using the Oerlikon they’d found in a hidden military base a few weeks earlier. They’d saved it for just such an opportunity.
And then the gods turned their backs on them. Bullets struck from nowhere.
Five men were dead.
It seemed that every time the marksman fired his rifle from the distant trees, one of them fell dead or dying. There was no way that any ordinary human could shoot with such accuracy. It had to mean that Mashashige had enlisted some sort of supernatural help in his fight against them.