“How far afield have our patrols been ranging?”
“About two or three miles in every direction,” Thor said.
The Doktor ran his right hand through his shock of dark hair. “Logic would dictate reinforcements be close to Catlow so they could assist Blade as promptly as possible. But if the reinforcements are beyond the three-mile limit, they couldn’t hope to reach Catlow before we…” The Doktor’s face brightened and he snapped his fingers. “Of course!”
“What?” Thor inquired.
“That must be it!” The Doktor started laughing.
“What?” Thor persisted.
“It’s the classic fencing ploy! The feint and thrust!”
“The what?” Thor’s confusion was evident.
“Catlow is a feint,” the Doktor said. He saw the consternation on Thor’s features and decided to elaborate. “In fencing, in boxing, or in any type of combat, you feint when you make a move in one direction, hoping your opponent will concentrate on that move, when all the time you were simply setting up your foe for the real thrust. The Warriors initiated a foray into the Civilized Zone by taking Catlow. But the move is a feint, designed to draw me out so they can launch their main thrust. That’s what the rider was doing hiding in the ravine.”
“The rider?”
“Certainly. He was the one who would contact the reinforcements at the proper time. There’s no other rational explanation!”
Thor pondered the Doktor’s words.
The Doktor laughed triumphantly. “The fools! They have unwittingly played into our hands! Without their messenger, they are stranded in Catlow. They are at our mercy!”
“I don’t know how you do it,” Thor complimented the Doktor. “I would never have figured it out.”
The Doktor’s chest puffed outward. “This is a valuable object lesson. Remember it always. The Genetic Research Division wouldn’t last two seconds without me at its helm.”
“I will always remember,” Thor promised, “and be loyal to you.”
The Doktor placed his hand on Thor’s shoulder. “I appreciate your devotion. It’s why I made you my second in command.”
“Do we attack soon?” Thor asked eagerly.
“After my breakfast.”
“Can I lead the charge today?” Thor requested.
“No.”
“But you didn’t let me lead it yes—” Thor began, and then caught himself before he aroused the Doktor’s volatile temper.
“I did not allow you to participate yesterday because I wanted to observe their defenses before committing my best men,” the Doktor elucidated.
“I held you and the twenty-four members of my personal guard in reserve. Today, though, everybody goes in. All of my G.R.D.’s and the Auxiliaries.”
“Why can’t I lead?” Thor inquired, pouting.
“Somebody else will be leading today,” the Doktor said.
“Who?” Thor questioned, peeved, annoyed at the prospect of the Doktor favoring someone else over him.
“I am personally commanding our troops today,” the Doktor revealed, grinning. “You will ride with me in the half-track.”
“We will crush them!” Thor enthusiastically cried.
The Doktor gazed in the general direction of Catlow. “I hope Blade is enjoying a hearty morning meal. It’s the last one he will ever eat.”
Chapter Twenty
“Where the blazes are they?” Hickok demanded impatiently.
“They’ll be here,” Geronimo stated. “What’s your rush?”
“They should have been here by now,” Hickok groused. “The sun was up hours ago.”
“Why is it,” Geronimo philosophized, “the white man is always as ready to get into trouble as he is to get out of it?”
They were standing at the corner of a brick house located on the western outskirts of Catlow. Blade had divided the defenders into pairs, leaving Lynx behind again at the command post. Blade and Bertha were somewhere in the southeastern part of the town, while Rudabaugh and Orson were watching to the north.
“Hey,” Hickok retorted, miffed, “the white man doesn’t go looking for trouble, pard. We’re peaceable folks at heart.”
“Tell that to Custer,” Geronimo quipped.
Hickok opened his mouth to speak, but stopped, staring to the west over Geronimo’s left shoulder.
Geronimo turned.
Over a dozen forms were moving toward the town, slowly advancing across a sagebrush- and weed-covered field.
“Looks like we got us some company,” Hickok declared.
“Astute observation, eagle-eye!” Geronimo said. “Do we fall back or take them here?”
“I ain’t one for running,” Hickok stated. “Let’s take ’em right here.”
Geronimo hurried to the other end of the house so they could cover both flanks. He cautiously peered around the northern corner of the home, spotting more of their adversaries coming toward Catlow, noting the assault force was composed of G.R.D.’s and soldiers. He looked down at the light green pillowcase dangling from his belt, the pillowcase containing his 2 bundles of dynamite. After Rudahaugh had prepared the 14 charges, 13 of them comprised of 4 sticks of dynamite and the final one including only 2, he had distributed them among the others. Blade, meanwhile, had entered the command post and emerged shortly thereafter bearing seven pillowcases taken from the cots the garrison had slept on. He had dispensed the pillowcases and a pack of matches to each of them. The matches had been taken from a drawer in the command post kitchen. Geronimo decided he wouldn’t use the dynamite until it was absolutely necessary. He glanced up.
A trooper was within 25 yards of the brick house, inching forward on his hands and knees.
Geronimo sighted the FNC, his fingers on the trigger.
Hickok’s Henry suddenly boomed, and in the distance there was a loud shriek.
Geronimo fired, the FNC recoiling against his shoulder.
The soldier jerked backward and flipped over, then lay still.
That should stir them up! Geronimo conjectured.
He was right.
A hail of lead tore into the brick house.
Geronimo ducked back as a bullet bit into the corner of the building and a brick fragment dislodged and whizzed past his eyes.
Hickok’s Henry thundered again, and once more.
Geronimo crouched and risked a hasty look-see.
The G.R.D.’s and troopers were rushing the house.
Geronimo shot twice, downing two foes, and then looked at Hickok.
The gunman waved to him, motioning for them to retreat.
Geronimo jogged to his friend, and together they ran 20 yards to a white frame house and swerved behind it.
None too soon.
Soldiers and G.R.D.’s poured around both corners of the brick home.
“How about a little cat and mouse?” Hickok whispered.
Geronimo grinned.
“Hold this,” Hickok said, and handed his Henry to Geronimo. He drew his Colts, winked at his partner, and stepped out into the open, his Pythons leveled.
One of the troopers saw him immediately and attempted to bring his M-16 to bear.
The Pythons blasted two, four, six times in rapid succession, and with each shot an opponent dropped, felled by a slug to the head.
Unnerved, the remaining soldiers and G.R.D.’s raced to the rear of the brick house and disappeared.
Hickok jumped from sight and twirled the Colts into his holsters. “Piece of cake,” he said.
“Let’s play some hide and seek,” Geronimo recommended, giving the Henry to Hickok.
“Lead on,” the gunfighter said. “You’ve always been better at gettin’ lost than I have.”
Geronimo recognized a cut when he heard one, but deferred retaliating for the moment. Instead, he led the way as they ran through several yards and reached a two-story structure with a stone foundation on the bottom and brown siding on the top. There was a large window in the middle of the second floor with a balcony on the outside.