The twenty-four troopers, five sergeants and one first lieutenant all grinned at him.
Maybe this is the size of force I should have led all along.
“Todd and Foster have perimeter guard, the rest of you are dismissed.”
The men scattered to their duties and the few distractions of Klahotsa, Bachman’s store being first and foremost. N’go walked over to Riordan.
“Are you sure that there will be no retribution for the shootings, Tim?”
Away from others, rank disappeared between them.
“What can they do, send a cop? The Dená are all wrapped up in their little civics class. Everyone is too busy to investigate three shootings.”
“I have my doubts of that, Tim,” N’go said carefully. “Everyone has friends.”
“You’re proof of that!” Riordan said and laughed.
106
Near Klahotsa on the Yukon
Colonel Del Buhrman didn’t like all this snow. It put a damper on their efforts. Not to mention it was getting damn cold for guys from the Republic of California. But they knew who their quarry was and where they could be found.
They had stopped in Nowitna to ask questions and replenish their supplies. At the Titus Brothers Mercantile they asked if anyone had seen any strangers.
“Why you askin’?” Sergi Titus gave Major Smolst a hard stare.
“Because someone murdered three innocent men on the river eight days ago. We want to find them before they kill someone else. That all right with you?”
Sergi pulled back, glanced around the busy room, and then nodded toward the back of the room. “Follow me, please.”
Smolst followed but grabbed one of his men to come too. Sergi Titus didn’t argue about the extra man when he saw who it was. He led them through a door and spoke only after the door shut.
“My cousins, Prospero and Iago Titus, were driving back from Delta and met this man who came in by himself, no vehicle or anything. He was hungry and tired and said he was going to Klahotsa, could they give him a ride.”
Smolst squinted at the man. “Prospero and Iago?”
Sergi grinned and shrugged. “My Auntie Ruth likes to read. When the twins were born she was reading a lot of Shakespeare. What can I say?”
Smolst laughed. “So did they give this fellow a lift?”
“Sure. This is the bush. Everybody helps everybody.”
Smolst frowned and said, “So why—”
“Allow me to finish. My cousins were immediately suspicious of the man because of his destination. The man who runs Klahotsa is a tyrant, a cheat, and not to be trusted.”
“Who is that?” Smolst asked.
“Bachmann. He showed up in Klahotsa one day about ten years ago with a signed deed for the store. Everybody who looked at the paper said it was the signature of the old owner, Konstantin Demientieff. But no one ever saw Konstantin after that: he had vanished.”
“So you pulled us back here to tell us that?” Smolst said.
“No. There are two men out there in our store that we don’t know. They could be Bachmann’s men.”
“Did your cousins give you a description of the man to whom they gave a ride?”
“Yeah, they did.” Sergi described Riordan perfectly and succinctly.
“We won’t forget your help, Sergi. You have our thanks.”
“Just be careful, Major Smolst. Bachmann has gathered a number of men around him, all strangers to us, and they are all killers. Let us know if we can be of more help.”
“Is there a back way out of this room?”
“Through that door, Major Smolst.”
Smolst walked out and found Colonel Buhrman. After telling him the situation, they decided to find the two spies. It didn’t take long.
“So who are you people?” Buhrman asked the two men tied to adjoining trees about half a kilometer from the village of Nowitna.
“We’re—” said the first.
“Tellin’ you nuthin’!” said the second.
Buhrman pointed at the second one. “Peterson, Kyle, take this guy over there about a hundred meters, make sure you’re out of hearing from us, and question him further.”
While the man was moved, Buhrman stared at the first man as if he could see through him. After five minutes of silence, growing increasingly nervous throughout, the first man blurted, “Listen, we haven’t done anything wrong!”
“So what have you done?” Colonel Buhrman asked in a disinterested tone.
“Some training, that’s all.”
“Training?”
“Yeah. Basic tracking, some fieldcraft, a bit of marksmanship…”
“Using what kind of weapons?”
The man licked his lips. Light snow started falling which gave the space around them more visual intimacy.
“Uh, .30-06 mostly. Just run-of-the-mill weapons.”
“What kind of rounds did you use?”
Fear suddenly radiated from the man’s eyes and Buhrman knew he was close to long-sought answers.
“B-bullets. Just regular bullets.”
“There’s this thing I have, not sure what to call it, but I absolutely know when someone is bullshitting me. As soon as this thing goes off in my gut, I start losing control of my better nature. And then I tend to hurt people who bring this thing on me.
“You have just slipped into that category.” He lost his good-natured mien and sharpened his voice. “And if you want to live through the next hour, you need to be truthful with me, otherwise at the end of the hour you will be begging us to kill you!”
“Th-this is crazy! I don’t know any—”
“Is Bachmann paying you enough to die under torture?” Buhrman demanded.
The man’s face blanched and he nearly fainted.
“Answer me!”
“No. No, he isn’t.”
“How many men does he have?”
“Th-thirty. Two dozen troopers like me, five sergeants, a first lieutenant and that g-gawddamn major.”
“That would be Major Riordan?”
“Yeah. If you know everything, why you asking me questions?”
“To see if you’ll lie to me and then I can hurt you.”
“L-look, this thing with Bachmann has gone all wr-wrong from the beginning. I haven’t hurt anyone and I want out of this mess.”
“What’s your name?”
“C-Clarence Needham.”
“Where were you born?”
“Ohio. What does this have to do with anything?”
“Because if I let you go and I find out you lied to me, I will hunt you down and kill you.”
“I haven’t lied to you, dammit!”
“I haven’t finished asking questions yet.”
Needham chewed his lower lip and, despite the growing cold, sweat ran down his forehead.
“Who shot those guys in the riverboat three weeks ago?”
“Smythe, Lockhart, Innoko Mike, and Murphy over there.” He nodded toward the man Smolst and two soldiers were interrogating.
“What kind of rounds did they use?”
“Mercury tips.”
“Why?”
“Bachmann wants us to kill some people and he thinks we’ll only have time to get off a couple of shots.”
“What people?”
“Some Indians who he says are pushing him around.”
“How many of these pushy Indians does he want to kill?”
“We’re training to hit six people at once.”
Murphy screamed something at Smolst, drawing their attention. Smolst knocked the man flat.
“He’s got a boot knife,” Needham blurted, “and he’s fast with it!”
Murphy came off the ground and lunged at Smolst. Colonel Buhrman snapped up his rifle and shot Murphy through the head. He lowered the weapon and stared at Needham.