Now Chief, sensing his objective, moved toward the car and, when he made sure no enemy waited, stood beside the door. As quietly as possible, Raglan unlocked the door and got in, motioning Chief up beside him. He locked the doors, then started the car and moved out. A backward glance in the mirror showed nothing behind him, and in the gathering darkness the ruin was no longer visible.
He passed no other cars upon the highway, once he reached it, and turned toward the town, wanting to return to Tamarron but giving up the idea in favor of the chance of seeing Gallagher again. He returned to the motel where he often stopped, left his car, and walked down to the cafe.
Gallagher was nowhere around and the place was almost empty. Two truckers sat at the counter and two other men, probably locals, were at a table. He found a place in a corner out of the way, where he could watch the door, then ordered a meal and coffee.
He was tired, tired as a man could be, and worried. He rubbed his fingers over the stubble on his chin, trying to bring some order into his thinking. He had to get off the dime and do something, but it didn’t make sense to go blindly into a place of which he knew nothing and where he would be immediately recognized as something alien.
The coffee came and it tasted good. He put the cup down, wondering where Gallagher was. He was somebody to whom he could talk, at least. Suppose the Varanel had attacked him today and he had shot one of them? He would have likely found himself on trial for murder and nothing he could say would have been believed by anyone.
The waitress came with his meal. He sipped his coffee, then started to eat. He was chewing on his first bite when the thought came.
He would see Eden Foster. Maybe, just maybe, she would intercede and arrange for Erik to be freed. The waitress came to his table. “We’re closing now. Would you mind paying your check?”
He fumbled in his pocket, found the money, and paid it. Suddenly he was hungry no longer. He ate a few bites, then put down his fork and walked outside.
It was very dark and he was alone. The street was empty. The light in the cafe behind him went out and he started back toward the motel. He was almost at the car when he heard a rush of feet behind him.
XXI
Raglan sidestepped quickly to the left, pivoted on the ball of his left foot, and swung a kick with his right toe at the nearest man—a Bando technique.
The kick caught the man behind the knee and he toppled into the path of the second man, who leaped his body and rushed at Raglan. Mike met the attack with a straight left to the face. He felt the nose crunch under his fist and moved quickly, swinging a kick to the groin. The man came down to hands and knees, and a kick to the head left him collapsed on the gravel.
The first man was up, and Raglan recognized the man he had suspected of watching him in the San Juan Room.
“All right,” he said quietly. “Come on!”
Warily, his antagonist circled, then rushed suddenly. It was a clumsy technique and Raglan, who had served his apprenticeship in carnival brawls, stepped in quickly and threw a right to the belly. The blow caught the man coming in and knocked the wind from him.
Backing off, Raglan went into his motel room and called the police. “Two men in the motel parking lot,” he said. “They look like they’ve run into something in the dark. I think Gallagher might want to see them.” He hung up without giving his name.
He had just taken off his shirt when he heard the screech of brakes and tires skidding on gravel. He did not lift the curtain but he saw the headlights and then heard someone say, “Get up from there! What’s going on here?”
Raglan washed his face and hands to remove any blood that might have spattered. His knuckles were only slightly skinned. He was getting into his pajamas when he heard a light tap at the door.
“Open up! It’s the police!” The officer did not speak loudly, and Raglan opened the door.
“Something wrong, Officer?”
“Somebody turned in a report and yours was the only light showing. Do you know these men?”
Bloody and in handcuffs, they stared at him, expressions surly. “That one”—he pointed—”I saw at Tamarron today. They told me he wasn’t a guest. Looks to me like they tried to mug somebody who didn’t want to be mugged.”
“You didn’t hear anything?”
“At the time I expect I was too busy to listen, Officer.”
“Aren’t you a friend of Gallagher’s?”
“Gallagher? He’s a fine man. Yes, I’d consider him a friend. If you need me for anything I’ll be right here, or in the restaurant over there. I’ll be glad to help in any way I can.”
Later, thinking about it, he knew he had been lucky. His tactics had taken them by surprise, and in another conflict he might not be so fortunate. All species of men have some style of combat in which they are trained. Undoubtedly his attackers had not expected a fight but planned simply to overpower him with sheer strength; whatever skills they possessed had not been brought into use. There simply had been no time for them to adjust. The entire action had taken no more than a minute, so he must not become overconfident.
His own skills were limited. In his years of knocking about, from his early days with the carnivals to his travels abroad, he had picked up here and there some tricks of self-defense and had been trained in a half-dozen such skills. From China, Japan, and Tibet to Burma, Sumatra, and Java, he had learned what he could and had trained with some superb athletes. At the same time he had worked at none of them long enough to be truly proficient.
Naturally curious, he had acquired some understanding of each people’s system of self-defense but had not practiced enough. He had an advantage over these people, he suspected, because he had been exposed to more different styles of fighting than they.
He awakened at daylight, shaved, showered, and dressed quickly. He had an idea Gallagher would be around, and after that he intended to see Eden Foster. He had no idea that she would admit to any connection with these people or with Shibalba, but he intended to discuss the matter of Erik Hokart. There was always the chance that his release might be arranged by negotiation—certainly better than an attempt to go through the curtain and release him by force or by some stratagem. It was worth a try.
At the same time, he must be on his guard. By going to her home he was, in a sense, entering enemy territory. No doubt she had men on call who would like nothing better than to lay hands on him.
Gallagher was seated at a back table, his eyes quizzical, when Raglan came in. “Figured you’d be in about now. I didn’t feel any need to wake you up.”
“Things were lively around here last night. Sorry you missed it.”
Gallagher glanced at the skinned knuckles. “Looks like you didn’t. How was it?”
“I was lucky. I doubt if they believed I’d be trouble, so I got the jump on them. I didn’t tell your boys much because I wanted to get some sleep, and to be frank, what could I tell them?”
“What was it? Attempted kidnapping or killing?”
“Damned if I know. They rushed me from behind and I simply went into action. Whatever they had in mind I didn’t want any part of it, so I registered my objections. Have you talked to them?”
“Talked to them? I haven’t even seen them! They disappeared from the jail sometime during the night. No sign of them. Just like they’d never been around!”
Mike Raglan told his story, briefly and to the point. The events in the canyon, his return to town, the rush from the darkness, his defense, the call to the police, and their appearance. “That’s the gist of it. I’d know them if I saw them again. One was certainly the man I saw at Tamarron, and I suspect they are the two who followed me along the highway.”
Gallagher stared out the window. “The heat’s on. We’ve had two more calls about Hokart. An electronics outfit phoned, and a lawyer.”
“I’m going to call on Eden Foster.”
Gallagher nodded. “Business or pleasure?”
“Strictly business. I’m going to put my cards on the table and try to negotiate. She’s an intelligent woman. We’ve agreed on that. We’ve got to get Hokart back or she will be on the carpet. I’ve got to make her understand the situation.” He paused. “The trouble is, can she make them understand?”