“Their bad luck if they did,” a man stated.
“Aye. Billy, check under the dock.”
There was the sound of clothing rustling, and a yellow stream arched off the dock into the water. The companions forced themselves not to move.
“Just warming it up first,” a man replied, laughing.
“Stop fucking around. The baron might be watching us.”
“Yeah, yeah, well, fuck his highness and the bitch who bore him.”
“Wanna say that to his face?” the first voice asked, chuckling.
“Hell no!” the second answered.
Ryan realized that was nearly the exact conversation Jones and a sailor had held in the skiff. Had to be a local joke. Obviously the baron wasn’t well loved, or even liked for that matter. Few were, unlike his nephew Nathan Cawdor. Not liked and not feared, if they told jokes behind his back. This info might just work in their favor.
Trying not to splash, Ryan moved toward the direction of the second voice and waited until a face appeared from above. Instantly he grabbed the man’s throat in an iron grip and hauled the sec man into the shadows. The prisoner tried for his blaster, but Doc snatched it away and splashed about in the water as if trying to swim.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the first voice complained. “The moron fell in again. Maggot, Bruiser, haul the stupe out of there before he drowns.”
“Why us?” a young voice demanded.
“Nobody here but us, and I ain’t gonna do it. Go.”
Two men jumped into the chest-deep water and the companions charged, swarming over the sec men and taking them captive in a heartbeat.
“Shitfire!” a bearded man standing on the dock cried out as the companions came into view with knives to the throats of his men.
“Hold by order of the baron!” he shouted, backing away from the outlanders. But then a large hand reached up over the side of the dock and grabbed hold of his right boot. Unexpectedly the sec man found himself tumbling into the sea. He hit hard, water going up his nose, choking the guard for a moment, then he was roughly hauled from the harbor onto the beach by a one-eyed man who looked grimmer than death.
“Y-you’re the people from the skiff!” the sec man sputtered, blowing water and bubbling snot out his nose. “How the hell can you still be alive?”
“Mebbe later,” Ryan said, sliding his blaster under the man’s chin while he took his weapons. The local baron really had the sec men scared, or was it something else? When the man was unarmed, Ryan pushed the SIG-Sauer into his chin until the sec man was looking into the sky. “Why did you shoot at us? Talk quick.”
“Why? Doing you a favor, idiot,” the man muttered through a clenched mouth. “You’re already aced. Guess I am, too, now that I’ve touched ya. Use the blaster on us both and end it quick and clean. Don’t wanna die puking blood for days.”
Ryan almost released the man in the shock of understanding. “Think we’re hot, eh?” he growled.
“Of course ya are! We seen ya using the river. Must a gone right past Forbidden Island.” He was trying to wiggle away from touching Ryan. “Got no idea why you’re still walking. Should be aced long ago. Guess I’m a dirt-eater myself now.”
Lowering the SIG-Sauer, Ryan lifted the sec man off the ground. “Do we seem weak?” he breathed into the man’s face. “Hair falling out, gums bleeding, puking our guts out? Triple-stupe bastard. We never got close to the reeking pesthole!”
The sec man stared at Ryan as if expecting him to topple over, the flesh falling from his bones. But as it became clear this wasn’t going to happen, the man started to quake in fear.
“It’s true,” the man whispered. “You’re not hot. Gods above, the baron will use the cage on me for this fuckup. Let me go! I’ll risk the jungle. Please! Have mercy!”
“Not my problem,” Ryan stated, shoving the sec man toward the gate. “I got a deal for the baron and you’re part of the price. Lead the way.”
“To the baron?”