“As for you, take whomever you need and begin contacting the other rebel leaders. I will detail what I want you to tell them.”
“This is to good to be true!” Toland remarked.
“It’s true,” Blade assured him. “It may be the only opportunity you will ever have to throw off the oppressive yoke of totalitarianism.”
Hickok glanced up at Blade, a sour look on his face. “Gee, pard, you’re gettin’ worse than Plato when it comes to using those ten-syllable words!”
“Where do you think I first heard it?” Blade rejoined. “So! Do we have a deal?” he asked Toland.
“We have a deal,” Toland confirmed.
Blade started down the ladder. He stopped on the third rung and stared at the rebel leader. “Before I forget, there is one thing you must not do under any circumstances. Don’t allow any of your people to head due south along U.S. Highway 85.”
Toland glanced over his left shoulder in the direction of the highway. It went completely through the town, but bypassed the town square three blocks east of where they stood. He nodded his comprehension. “The Doktor will be coming from the south.”
“Exactly,” Blade agreed. “And I would imagine he won’t be in the best frame of mind. Considering his homicidal tendencies, I wouldn’t want to be the one to come between him and Catlow.”
Chapter Nine
The small, wiry man with the Oriental features placed his right hand on the hilt of his prized katana, his brow knit in thought. He wore a black martial-arts uniform fashioned by the Family Weavers. “Are you certain one of your horses is missing?”
“Positive,” the tall, muscular man in buckskins stated.
“But you have so many,” the man in black noted.
The man in the buckskins pursed his lips. His clear blue eyes were focused on the Warrior in front of him. He ran his right hand through his light brown hair, hair streaked with gray. “You’re from the Family, Rikki,” he said. “Wouldn’t you know it if one of the Family turned up missing?”
Rikki nodded. “Of course. But the Cavalry has so many horses, Kilrane,” he reiterated.
Kilrane stared at the column below them, stopped for the midday meal at the foot of a ridge. The 510 Cavalry riders were divided, with half at the head of the column and a like number bringing up the rear. Following the first half of the Cavalry, all robust plainsmen garbed in buckskins like Kilrane, came the 14 trucks, troop transports that Alpha Triad had taken from soldiers in the Twin Cities. Because some of them could drive, members of the Clan were handling the chore of navigating the trucks over the rugged South Dakota landscape. The troop transports could accommodate over 500 passengers; consequently, there was ample room for the 200 fighters from the Clan, 150 Moles, and all of their supplies and spare gasoline. “Our horses are our life,” Kilrane said to Rikki. “Every man knows his horses as well as he knows his wife.” He turned and motioned to a balding man in buckskins below him on the slope of the ridge. “Come here.”
The man hurried up to them, obeying his leader.
“This is Vern,” Kilrane said, introducing the Cavalryman. “Vern, I’d like you to meet Rikki-Tikki-Tavi. I know he’s got a strange name, but he’s the head of Beta Triad and as such, with Blade in Catlow, is in charge of this here expedition.”
“Howdy,” Vern said.
“I understand one of your horses is missing,” Rikki stated, getting right to the point. Plato had placed an awesome responsibility on his slim shoulders, commanding the Freedom Federation’s forces until such time as Blade took over, and he intended to discharge his duties as efficiently as feasible.
“Yes, sir,” Vern confirmed. “Kilrane told each of us to bring along an extra mount, just in case. As you know, the spare herd is following ’bout five miles back of the main column. Every so often some of us ride back and bring up some fresh horses. When I went back last night, I couldn’t find my horse, my spare mare.”
Rikki thoughtfully ran his left hand through his short black hair. “Is it possible you misplaced your animal in so large a herd?”
Vern shook his head. “No, sir. I’d know her anywhere.”
“When you are around horses all the time,” Kilrane added, “you are able to tell ’em apart as easily as you can tell the difference between two people. No two horses are alike. Their build, markings, and even their behavior is distinctive.”
“Could another Cavalry rider be using your steed?” Rikki inquired.
Vern snorted. “No one else had better be riding my horse, if they know what’s good for ’em! That’d be the same as stealin’, if they didn’t ask my permission. Besides, our guys ridin’ guard on the herd know better.”
“And you don’t think the animal might have slipped from the herd undetected and is roaming around somewhere?” Rikki asked.
Kilrane and Vern exchanged grinning glances. “Lose a horse?” Kilrane queried, and both Cavalrymen laughed at the suggestion.
“If the mare isn’t lost, and you didn’t overlook it,” Rikki said to Vern, “then it can only mean one thing. The horse was stolen,” he deduced.
“My thinking exactly,” Kilrane stated. “Which is why I brought it to your attention.”
Rikki-Tikki-Tavi took several steps along the ridge, studying the encampment below. “Are any of the men missing?”
“None,” Kilrane answered.
“You’ve checked the Clan and the Moles as well as your own riders?”
“Of course,” Kilrane said, a touch indignantly, resenting the implication he might be derelict in his duty.
Rikki sighed. This massive operation entailed making so many decisions daily, and necessitated being in such a constant state of readiness, he found the whole experience more trying and stressful than he’d anticipated. Dear Spirit, how he longed for a refreshing interval of meditation to deplete his sapped reserves! Life was so much simpler when he had only two other Warriors to command, Yama and Teucer. He was kept so busy overseeing the campaign, he didn’t even have time for his daily workout and routines. For a dedicated, consummate martial artist like himself, this was the hardest burden to bear.
“There is one thing,” Kilrane mentioned.
Rikki glanced at the Cavalry leader. “What?”
“Didn’t we count everybody, twice, before we left the Home?” Kilrane queried.
“You know we did. Why?”
Kilkrane scratched his prominent chin. “You’re gonna think this is crazy, but we may have left the Home with one more than man than we thought we had.”
“Explain.”
“Well, the second night we were out, one of the Mole captains was making his bedcheck of the men in his truck. He counted one more than he should have.”
“Why wasn’t this reported?” Rikki demanded.
Kilrane shrugged. “He didn’t think much of it at the time. After all, we’re concerned about losing someone, not gaining another fighter. It was late, and all of the men were sleeping, so he didn’t bother waking them up. He decided to wait until morning. Funny, though.”
“What?”
“The very next morning, when he counted again, he had exactly the number of men he was supposed to have in the truck.”
“We gain a man and lose a horse,” Rikki said, reflecting.
“Do you think it could have been a spy from the Civilized Zone?” Kilrane asked.
“Anything is possible,” Rikki declared, “but I doubt it. Why would a spy draw attention to his or her activites by stealing one of our mounts? Why would the spy leave now, before ascertaining our destination? Remember, only you, Yama, Teucer, and myself know where we’re headed. Plato, Zahner, and Wolfe know, but they stayed behind with their people. I think some of the other Warriors were informed but, again, they’re not here.”