“Trouble,” J.B. whispered as the workmen came toward them. The companions rose to greet the potential fight, and weren’t to be disappointed. Although the workmen seemed relaxed as they approached, they were clutching bottles. Ryan tensed and knew that as he did, so did all of his people.
The deceptively friendly approach was broken when the parties were only yards apart, as the workmen suddenly sprung into action. There were more of them than there were of the companions, and that was crucial. While the five men took to an opponent one on one, the two women found themselves fighting three workmen. Rysh and Molloy closed in on Mildred and Krysty, and Emerson slipped behind them, forcing them to circle and keep part of their attention behind.
So it was that Rysh was able to catch Mildred a glancing blow on the temple and stun her. Krysty whipped her head around at the sound of Mildred’s groan, and in that crucial fraction of a second found herself fall victim to the same tactic.
Rysh and Molloy slung a woman each over their shoulders and headed into the dark, with Emerson covering their backs.
Ryan saw their direction as he dealt with Hay, a short-arm blow finally disabling the armed worker.
Hal whistled, and Ryan’s fighters found themselves wrong-footed by the sudden retreat of those they were fighting.
“Millie?” J.B. shouted, whirling around.
“They took them around the back of the extension,” Dean cried, his eyes picking out the other workmen disappearing around the corner of the new building.
Without a word, the companions took off after their opponents. Doc lagged somewhat behind, and by the time he had gained the extension, he found the others had searched all the rooms.
“They’re not here,” Ryan said shortly. “They must have doubled back to the shelter.”
“No,” Jak snapped. “Trail lead away.”
In the dark night, it would seem almost impossible that anyone could pick up a trail, but Jak’s finely honed hunting sense had led him to the scent.
They followed him as he set off toward the collection of wags and trailers that contained the construction tools. As they approached, they could hear the sounds of fighting.
Rounding the largest wag, they saw Mildred and Krysty, both still fuzzy but revived by the adrenaline rush of danger, standing back to back. The two women were holding the workers at bay, but it was a losing battle,
Until the cavalry arrived. The battle was short, swift and bloody. Ryan and J.B. were experienced hand-to-hand fighters, and Jak was a white blur of fists and feet. Dean and Doc, although for their own reasons less experienced, had learned from their companions, and the drugged and drunk workmen offered little resistance when taken by surprise.
In a few seconds, the workers were floored, unconscious and battered into submission by the anger and skill of the companions.
“Good.”
Ryan whirled to find Crow standing, watching, with the three sec men behind him.
“You watched all this?” the one-eyed warrior asked. When Crow assented, Ryan yelled, “Why did you let us take them alone?”
“If you’d had trouble, then I would have stepped in,” the Native American said quietly. “But the fact is, I wanted to see how you’d manage.”
“Why?”
“Because Baron Silas asked me to assess you.”
“So he could use us if we won? Fireblast, I should chill you where you stand,” Ryan spit.
“You won’t,” Crow answered. “Because you’re not armed and we are. And because you’re curious. Sure, it’ll benefit Baron Silas. But just mebbe you’ll get something out of it, too.”
Ryan paused, breathing hard and letting his temper settle. Finally, he said, “Yeah, but don’t push us too far.” With which he turned on his heel and joined his companions in attending to Krysty and Mildred, who were still dazed from the initial assault.
“I wonder how far too far is,” the Native American mused quietly to himself.
Chapter Seven
Ryan and his companions had little idea what to expect when the morning came. They had made themselves a camp some distance from the main body of the workforce, and had mounted a watch through the remains of the night in case the workers decided to try to extract revenge. But whether it was a matter of the beaten workers unwilling to continue the fight, or whether it was the efforts of the sec men to keep them apart and Crow keeping his word, there was no further sign of trouble.