Baron Silas answered heatedly. “Most of them have got womenfolk with them, some with kids… mebbe double that, a little over. But what the hell has this got to do with—?”
Ryan cut him off. “It’s got to do with playing numbers. That’s a shit load of people for anyone to sec, let alone a few of your people and just us. And that’s also a real easy number to get lost in. Any saboteurs in there are really going to be able to hide easily—too damn easily.”
“So why the fuck are you standing there pissing in the wind when there could be some sabotage going on right now?” Baron Silas yelled angrily.
“Because anyone who’s up to anything would have heard us arrive, and they’d as sure as shit hear you now. The camp is how far?” Ryan added, appearing to go off on a tangent as he looked around to locate the camp. It was easy to find by searching out the column of smoke that was rising above it. It seemed about a mile off to the southwest. “How long does it take to reach there?” he added before Baron Silas had a chance to answer the first question.
“Not long by wag,” Silas replied.
“But how do the workers do it?” Ryan quizzed.
“By foot. I guess it takes about fifteen minutes,” Silas said after a little thought.
J.B. was staring into the distance toward the camp. “Fire must’ve been going longer than that, because there’s no one in sight. So they’re either in the camp, or still here.”
“They?” Silas asked.
“Whoever’s sabotaging the refinery—if that’s what’s going on,” Mildred replied, climbing down from the wag, where she was joined by Jak and Dean. “Because they aren’t in sight, and they aren’t here at the derrick. So, if anyone’s still around to do a little quick sabotage, then they’re at the refinery buildings. It’s simple when you think about it,” she added with a touch of sarcasm that didn’t escape the baron.
“Then shouldn’t y’all be doing something?” he retorted.
“That’s just what we’re about to,” Ryan answered in a cool tone as he dismounted the wag. J.B., Doc and Krysty joined the others, until they were all standing on the side of the wag that faced away from the derrick and toward the refinery, which was a couple of hundred yards distant. The one-eyed man faced his people after a searching glance at the refinery buildings, and the maze of pipework that connected the two.
“Okay,” he began, “we don’t know the layout and we don’t know what we might be facing, so let’s go triple red and stay frosty. J.B., you and Dean take the first two buildings, while Mildred and Jak take the other two. Krysty and Doc, come with me. We’ll split into three and take the pipe sections one at a time. Be real careful. That’s a real maze in there, and there’s a shit load of places for any coldhearts to hide and chill us. We’re looking for more than just people. Keep a sharp lookout for any plas-ex that may be around, and careful of booby traps.” He looked at his companions. They had taken in every word, and were ready. He nodded, as much to himself as to anyone else. “Okay, let’s go.”
They separated into the three groups and headed off—J.B. and Dean toward the blocks nearest, and Mildred and Jak circling to take in the more distant of the two refinery buildings.
The buildings were all alike—old red brick constructions surfaced in concrete, with old wire reinforcements over window openings that had lost their glass many decades ago. J.B. and Dean arrived at theirs first, flattening themselves on either side of the open doorway.
J.B. held the Uzi, set to single shot, which he figured was his best option in an enclosed space. Dean had his Browning Hi-Power ready. The two fighters exchanged glances, and J.B. signaled with a brief, almost imperceptible nod.
The Armorer went first. Turning swiftly, he flung himself into the open doorway, Dean behind covering him. Crouching, J.B. sought cover and found it behind a large metallic pump, coming up with the barrel of the Uzi resting on top of the metallic structure. His eyes adjusted quickly to the gloom, noting that the running strips of neon that took the length of the ceiling hadn’t been repaired, and that the light that existed within the building came from low-level oil lamps that were used to spotlight the actual work sites in progress. They had been left burning, suggesting that the evacuation to the camp had been swift and sudden.