“Yup! We have to keep our strength up.”
Capelli chuckled. “You’re getting fat.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Yeah, I guess it is.”
“Joseph?”
Capelli looked at her. “Yes?”
“The Tilsons, the Wexlers, and the Haneys are missing. They left most of their belongings behind. As if they plan to come back and reclaim them soon.”
Capelli felt his heart sink. A montage of images flickered through his mind. He saw Tilson pumping the Osage warriors for information, Tilson flipping switches in the Suzy Q’s cockpit, and Tilson taking notes. Lots of notes. “The bastards.”
“Yeah.”
“So Ramsey knows.”
Susan held her tea with both hands. “I think we should assume that.”
“Maybe Terri and the rest of them will cancel.”
Susan shook her head. “Not from what I heard in the kitchen. They feel the alliance has to attack at this point. If it doesn’t, Ramsey will. Besides, all of the necessary arrangements are in place. Who knows if we would be able to bring everybody back together again.”
That made sense in a horrible sort of way. But Capelli discovered that his appetite had vanished. He put his fork down. “You’re staying home tomorrow.”
Susan frowned. “First, I don’t take orders from any man, and that includes you! Second, I’m the best shot in Haven, and that could make a difference. So little Joe and I will be there.”
The “Little Joe” thing had become a running joke between them, but Capelli didn’t smile. He moved to push his chair back but stopped when Susan put a hand on his.
“Don’t be angry, Joseph. I know you’re trying to take care of me. Of us. And I promise to stay way back. Okay?”
Capelli looked at her, saw what was in her eyes, and felt the resentment melt away. “Okay.”
Capelli heard peals of sardonic laughter inside his head but didn’t care. Perhaps Hale didn’t realize it—but he was dead.
Dawn was still half an hour away as the alliance closed in on the habitat called Tunnel-Through. Because his mostly civilian army had never been able to train together, Kawecki figured it would be a mistake to try and launch the sort of massed attack that could fail due to inexperience or miscommunication. Plus the enemy knew the alliance was coming and was well entrenched.
So rather than rely on brute force, Kawecki chose to give each group a job it was uniquely suited to do. Once he gave the command, Kosmo and most of the fighters from Haven were going to attack the north entrance to the tunnel.
Then, as the defenders swarmed to that location, Shaw was going to lead Capelli and a small group of carefully chosen men to the side entrance through which he and his daughter had been ejected. The job was to blow the door, enter the underground complex, and hunt Ramsey down. Because if they could capture or kill Tunnel-Through’s leader, the battle would end quickly. Meanwhile if the regulators came out to play, Bo and a group of mounted warriors would engage them, thereby giving Kosmo and his people an opportunity to withdraw with minimal casualties.
Smaller teams, made up of people from Pop-Up, Junk Yard, and a community called Marsh, had been given maps. That included copies of the one Kawecki had drawn while spying on Tunnel-Through. They were to target specific sentries and weapons pits, take them out, and penetrate the complex via whatever doors and tunnels they happened across.
That was the plan. But Kawecki knew it would be disrupted once the fighting began. At that point he would have to rely on hand-held radios to redeploy his troops. Were all of them in the proper position? Kawecki put out a call and listened as the answers came back. Some of the transmissions were consistent with military conventions, but most weren’t.
“The Two Team is in position. Over.”
“We’re here.”
“Ready when you are,” and so forth, until the correct number of people had answered.
“Okay,” Kawecki said, “light the place up.”
More than a dozen flare guns went off, a series of pops were heard, and a number of miniature suns were born. They jerked as tiny parachutes were deployed, swayed gently when a breeze hit them, and began to descend. The bright lights threw harsh shadows across the half-frozen land as one of Kosmo’s men fired a Pulse cannon and scored a direct hit on the rockslide that blocked the entrance. The battle for Tunnel-Through had begun.
Ramsey was sitting astride Thunder about half a mile to the west as the flares went off and the bolt of energy from the Pulse cannon struck. “You were correct,” the judge observed, peering through a pair of binoculars.
Tilson’s horse was standing to Ramsey’s right. The businessman felt a sense of satisfaction. There had been a good deal of risk associated with spying for Ramsey, and subsequently sneaking out of Haven, but the gamble was about to pay off. Because even though he hadn’t been privy to every detail of Kawecki’s plan, he was familiar with the general outlines of it. And that meant Ramsey was, too. So shortly, within a day or so, he would be sent back not just to live in Haven but to govern it. “Yes, sir,” he said out loud. “It looks like the idiots are sticking to their plan.”
“As we will stick to ours,” Ramsey replied confidently. “While the main group attempts to suck us in, we’ll circle around behind them and take out their command structure. Then, once the beast has been decapitated, it will die. Are you ready, Mr. Tilson?”
Tilson felt a terrible emptiness at the pit of his stomach but managed to keep his voice steady. “Yes, sir.”
“Good. Let’s ride.”
Capelli and his team were already in the ravine when the flares went off and the battle commenced. He whispered, “Go,” and followed the dark blotch that was Shaw up a steep bank. Rocks clattered as they fell; a guard detached himself from the surrounding murk, and staggered drunkenly as Tenkiller put an arrow in his throat.
The first man was still vertical and choking on his own blood when a second one fired. The quick succession of flashes revealed his position. He uttered a choking cry as another shaft sped through the air and buried itself in his chest. His body landed with a thump.
The first guard was on the ground by that time and Shaw had to step over the body in order to reach the door. “This is it,” he said sotto voce. “You can hear the generator through the exhaust port.”
And Capelli could hear the steady rumble and smell diesel fumes as well. “All right! Good job. Move aside so I can place the charge.”
The block of C-4 explosive was ready and all he had to do was slap it onto the metal door and back away. Judging from the incessant chatter of automatic weapons, and the occasional boom of grenades, the feint was well under way. So the sooner he and his team got inside, the better.
There was a flash of light and then a loud bang as the C-4 went off and the door buckled inwards. Capelli kicked it open and entered with his Bullseye leveled. Not having encountered any opposition, he took a moment to thumb the radio’s transmit button. “Capelli here. We’re inside. Over.”
“Roger that,” Kawecki replied. “Good work. Now go after… Just a sec. Hold on.”
Capelli heard Kawecki swear. That was followed by a sudden flurry of gunshots, some desperate shouting, and the thunder of what might have been hooves. Then there was silence. That wasn’t good. Capelli forced himself to stay focused on the job ahead and waved the team forward. “Follow me!”