The sound of the wag had ceased. In the distance, they could see a dim light where the saboteurs were using a lamp to wire their device.
“They’re not frightened of being seen,” Mildred remarked.
“Need light. Mebbe one man on shotgun,” Jak replied.
“So how do we tackle this?” Mildred asked Ryan.
“Circle wide. They’ll have to put a timer on their bombs so they can get away. Take a few shots at them, then we’ll let the bomb go off, make it look like we failed this time, and they caught us out.”
“Sound good,” Jak said.
“Hope it’s enough to fool them,” Mildred added.
Meanwhile, Doc had been joined by J.B., Dean and Krysty, headed toward the refinery block that hadn’t been damaged the night before. They were adopting the same tactics as Ryan, Mildred and Jak, circling around the site and moving at a canter rather than a gallop. Like the other group, they wished to create the impression that they were out to stop the saboteurs while making them feel that they could succeed, and so open the way for the following night, when they would go all out against the saboteurs.
The wag standing outside the blockhouse was empty, and as they approached, it seemed that the building itself was empty.
“Must be inside,” Krysty said. “We’ll let them get out before we fire.”
“Try and hit the wag, but don’t chill any of them,” J.B. muttered. “We want them to get away.”
In both locations, the friends waited at a safe distance for the saboteurs to emerge from planting their bombs. It would be a delicate balance to appear to be fighting while in fact hanging back.
At the pipeline, the two saboteurs hurried back to their wag, to find themselves under fire from Ryan, Jak and Mildred, who had circled wide and were now homing in from three differing directions. The saboteurs fired up their wag and headed out into the desert with a squeal of brakes and a screech of tires. Bullets from the ZKR, the Colt Python and the Steyr bit the dirt around the wag, some hits scoring the sides of the wag. But none hit the saboteurs, who thought their luck was in. They didn’t realize that the lack of visible success was deliberate.
Much the same happened to the saboteurs emerging from the blockhouse, who found themselves under fire from some distance. They ran to their wag, keeping close to the ground, clambering in and firing the engine. The wag bucked as the driver threw it into gear, and it roared off away from the blockhouse and toward the desert, under fire from J.B., Doc, Krysty and Dean. The shot from the LeMat splashed the side of the wag, pitting the metal.
As the wag pulled away, J.B. turned to the others. “Let’s get the hell out before the bomb blows.”
THE EXPLOSIONS from both bombs were visible from the workers’ camp and the sec camp. The only people not to see them were the companions, who were headed back toward the sec camp with their backs to the work site.
When they reached the sec camp, Myall was waiting for them.
“Well? What the fuck was that?” he asked Ryan.
The one-eyed man fixed Myall with a stare. “Fire-blasted saboteurs. We weren’t able to stop them in time. They got into areas we weren’t able to cover. Bastards got away this time, though I think we may have injured one of them. Didn’t chill any, though.”
“Shit! Baron Silas ain’t gonna be pleased about this.”
“Neither are we,” Ryan snapped, leaving the sec chief standing as he headed toward their sleeping tent, followed by the companions.
“Think I sounded convincing?” he asked Krysty. “I’m a fireblasted terrible liar.”
“I reckon you did okay,” the woman replied. “I also think Myall’s got more to worry about than us.”
“Let’s hope so,” Ryan said thoughtfully, “because what we need is everyone to trust us until tomorrow night.”
Chapter Eighteen
Evening came too soon. After the companions had rested, and then risen and eaten, Ryan had to discuss the previous evening’s apparent debacle with Myall and seem to be irritated by his people’s apparent inability to deal successfully with the sabotage attempts.