Jak wasn’t the only one to notice that the sec chiefs eyes dwelled lustfully on Jenna’s naked form. There was a look in his eye that also suggested a familiarity with her form. For the albino, this added a few things together in his mind.
Alien barked out the situation to the sec chief, beginning with the missile and ending with Dean’s disappearance. The sec chiefs next words surprised everyone:
“Perhaps the muties got Cyclops Jr…”
“Dark night!” J.B. whispered to Mildred. “Has the triple stupe got a dose of rad poisoning?”
Ryan stared at the sec chief coldly. “You going to explain what that means?”
Harvey matched Ryan’s stare. “Just exactly what I say. Chances of the boy going astray in Raw are next to nothing. Where the hell could he be? I reckon there was a revenge party out for more kids—mebbe some kind of sacrifice to appease their gods or something—and young Cawdor got caught.”
Alien looked thoughtful. “You could be right there, Harv,” he replied at length. “Sure as shit can’t imagine where he could be in here.” The baron looked at Ryan. His face was so open that the one-eyed warrior had no doubt he believed the sec chief completely. “Mebbe we should get that party under way and land two prizes.”
“And if Dean isn’t in Samtvogel?” Mildred pressed.
Alien shrugged. “Then we’ll mount a search when we return. Trust me, Ryan Cawdor, there’s little harm the boy can come to in Raw.”
“I trust you,” Ryan said slowly and pointedly. “I trust you completely. That’s not the problem.”
His eye met Jenna’s gaze. She seemed to peer deep into him, and despite himself he felt a stirring in his loins. It took some effort to look away.
THE RAIDING PARTY assembled in the main hall about two hours later by J.B.’s wrist chron. The Armorer had taken more of an interest in these proceedings than in the assembly of the interception force from the previous day. There were a number of problems that presented themselves to any sec chief who wanted a raiding party of sharpness and quality assembled at such a short notice.
To begin with, the Armorer doubted that the previous day’s blasters had been stripped and cleaned. One of the first things he had learned during his time with Trader, before Ryan had even joined the infamous party on Trader’s War Wag One, was that pre-dark blasters needed regular cleaning and overhauling. When the large stockpiles had first been found, the weapons had been taken from their packing cases, and in some instances were immediately capable of being fired. But for many, the years of being stacked and inactive had led to the grease drying out, the bearings seizing, working parts becoming fixed and dangerous.
Every new blaster that had been acquired by Trader, whether secondhand or fresh from a stockpile, had been stripped, cleaned and greased before being reassembled and tested before being handed out for use in an everyday or combat situation.
And regular stripping and cleaning became even more important in some areas of the Deathlands. The nuke-raddled landscape and tainted air meant that in some areas the blasters were more susceptible to conditions. Blasters though cleaned and greased were prone to corrosion and drying out, conditions that made combat dangerous. Many had bought the farm from a misfiring or exploding blaster. But not many of those had traveled with Trader.
So J.B. was interested to see how the armory at Raw would cope with this, given that the celebrations had begun almost as soon as they arrived back, and many in the newly constituted raiding party had been forcibly turned from their beds and even now were showing signs of still recovering from their drunkenness.
This was no idle curiosity. He knew that his own weapons were in the best condition. He knew that Ryan also kept his weapons that way. As for the others in their party, none would have survived as long as they had without that discipline being second nature. Neither would Ryan allow any to endanger the others by risking a misfire during a combat situation. They could back up one another all the way, but now they were also dependent on the inhabitants of Raw, a ville of which they knew nothing.