“Even if we ain’t,” McVie finished for him.
THE COMPANIONS RODE in silence away from the sec camp and across the desert to the work site. It was far enough, in the gloom, for them to change their positions without anyone being able to spy on them from either camp and give the game away, particularly as they shunned the use of lamps to light their way, unlike the regular sec patrols.
Before they parted to take their mounts to the expected positions, then change to the new points on foot, Ryan stopped and turned to his people.
“This is the big one,” he said simply. “If we’re right, then we nail it down tonight. We need to get Silas, and the best way is to get one of these cold-heart mercies alive and get him to tell his story to the other barons. Otherwise, they’ll figure we’re in it with him and Silas, and chill us all without a second thought.”
There was a moment’s silence while they considered that, then J.B. looked at the position of the rising crescent moon and muttered, “Better get to it, before we miss them.”
THE SIMPLEST PART of the plan was to tether their mounts in the positions they were supposed to have taken and then make their way to their revised places. In the darkness that rapidly fell when the sun set, there was plenty of shadow for them to move silently. That wasn’t their problem. For each, it would be a matter of finding a hiding place where they could observe what was going on and also keep out of sight until the moment of optimum surprise.
For Doc and Dean, there was also the matter of teaming up and making sure that they knew where the other was. If there was trouble, they didn’t want to chill or endanger each other by accident. So it was that both the young Cawdor and the prematurely aged Doc Tanner found themselves approaching the refinery buildings from different angles, keeping a sharp lookout for each other.
Dean saw a shadow moving across between the two smaller buildings, keeping to the line of the covered walkway. He cut across from his position until he intersected the other figure’s path… except that the other figure had vanished. Dean’s finger tightened instinctively on the delicate trigger of the Browning Hi-Power as he scanned the darkness, straining for the slightest sound.
“By the Three Kennedys, you will have to do better than that,” whispered a voice from the shadows.
Even though he knew it was Doc, Dean still dropped to one side, rolling as he hit the ground and coming up in a combat stance, only just stopping himself from firing.
“Hot pipe, Doc! Don’t do that!”
Doc emerged from the shadows, LeMat in one hand and swordstick in the other. He was shaking his mane of white hair from side to side as he entered the dim light. “I could have taken you out right there and then. Please be careful when the enemy arrives, as I would not like to have to explain to your father how you were chilled.”
“Fair point, Doc,” Dean replied, cursing himself for being caught. But, like a true Cawdor, he would learn from the experience. “So how are we going to take this?”
“I would suggest we cover a section each, and perhaps have some kind of signal to warn each other of our own approach during a tactical situation—to avoid any more confusion,” he added wryly.
Dean ignored that, and replied, “I’ll take these two buildings. You take the larger as it’s less ground all around. And we’ll just yell. In combat who the hell is going to hear a birdcall?”
“As you wish,” Doc replied. He made to speak again, but his attention was snatched away by the sound of wags approaching.
“Let’s do it—and now,” Dean snapped, moving back into the shadows. Doc nodded his agreement, and with a surprising turn of speed for one seemingly so old, he, too, vanished into the darkness.
Although there were other wags audible in the distance, only one sped into the gap between the two refinery blocks, skidding to a halt. It had three occupants: a driver and two others, who jumped out as soon as the wag halted. On either side of the gap, Dean and Doc couldn’t believe their luck as they were able to completely cover the wag and its occupants.