MYALL WAS in his small office, drawing up new guard rotas in light of what Baron Silas had told him.
“J.B., what can I do for you?” the sec chief asked wearily as the Armorer entered.
“Records—you keep notes on everything, it seems,” the Armorer began, “and I wanted to know if you had any records on the attacks on the well and refinery.”
“Such as?”
“Dates, sites that were attacked, anything that could give me a clue as to some sort of pattern.”
Myall scratched his head. “Well, I don’t keep any records of that as such, but I guess it all would be in the duty log I’ve got. Everything that happens on patrols I keep note of, just in case the baron asks me about something.” The sec chief gave a wry grin. “That way, at least I can tell the Baron something, even if I can’t give him all the answers he wants.”
“Can I borrow the log?” J.B. asked.
Myall shrugged and handed it over to the Armorer, wondering aloud what the hell good it could do. J.B. didn’t answer, but took the collection of papers and notes back to the companions’ tent, where the others were waiting.
“Now we’ll see,” J.B. said cryptically as he settled down with the papers.
After a few minutes, he looked up. “Yep, it’s just as I thought. The attacks increase in frequency to coincide with the visit of the other barons, which means the project is always in chaos when they’re here and they never get to see the full picture.”
“Which means Baron Silas really does have something to hide,” Mildred stated. “And, if I’m not mistaken, means we’re in for an interesting couple of nights. Especially as the baron knows our patrol schedule.”
“So we change it, catch him out,” Dean said simply.
“No, not quite,” Ryan added. “We play along with him. We need to be able to prove all this to save our necks, because you can bet your last jack that when this comes out we’ll be seen by the other barons as being part of it, unless we can prove otherwise. Tonight we stick to the schedule.”
“And if there are attacks?” Doc asked.
“We see if they’re on the undefended points,” Ryan answered. “And if so, then the following night we change the schedule and keep a triple red on those points he thinks are unprotected. And then—and only then—we’ve got the bastard.”
“And kept hold of our skins,” Mildred added.
THAT NIGHT BROUGHT exactly what the companions had expected. They were positioned according to the schedule Crow had relayed to Baron Silas when the sound of wags became apparent across the silent desert earth.
Ryan spoke into his handset. “Which direction?”
Jak’s voice came back over the crackling receiver. “One headed for pipes to storage tank.”
Doc’s voice cut in. “Another is taking a second shot at the refinery building they were foiled on last night.”
“Any others?” Ryan asked. There was a negative response. So there were only the two wags sent on this night. It was as if whoever was behind the plan didn’t want to risk too much. Ryan understood that. His contention had been that the saboteurs would want to marshal all their resources for the last night before the meeting of the barons. This pair of attacks would be to test the water. Had they worked out what was going on? If so, would they have changed their rota?
Although he was almost a hundred percent sure that Baron Silas was behind the attacks, the one-eyed man didn’t want to count on that fact and be caught out if it was someone else.
The following night would show for sure. In the meantime, they had to show themselves willing without risking too much.
“Okay, let’s go after them.” But not, he added to himself, too hard.
Ryan headed toward the wag that was trying to sabotage the piping that led between the refinery and the storage tanks. Along the way, he was joined by Jak and Mildred. All three of them were cantering with their horses, not wishing to charge into trouble. The following night would be the time to go hell for leather.