Cole felt confident that Hauer would wait for daylight. When daylight came, Cole had a surprise of his own planned for his old enemy.
With a full belly, Cole felt new energy coursing through him. Whatever came tomorrow, he would be ready to finish this business with Hauer for once and for all. This was going to be the finish to a fight that had started forty years before.
“Get some sleep,” he said to Danny. “I’ll keep watch.”
Danny didn’t argue. They were both exhausted after a day spent trudging up and down the mountain, trying to stay ahead of Hauer. Danny’s injured ankle and Cole’s own wounds had also drained their energy.
His grandson tugged his coat tighter and rolled over in the leaves to get some sleep.
Cole had no plans of his own to sleep. He smiled to himself. What did an old man need sleep for, anyhow? He had an eternity to rest, and that eternity was coming on fast. No, sleep was for the young. He glanced down at the resting young man, wishing that he could walk with him through life and guide him, but knowing that we each have to make our own way. The best that any parent or grandparent could hope for was to set younger folks on the right path.
He wanted Danny to live and have a chance to follow that path, wherever that might take him. For that to happen, Cole was going to have to kill Hauer.
Instead of sleeping, he took out the hunting knife that he had used to butcher the boar and began to sharpen it. He had no proper sharpening stone with him, of course, but he had found a reasonably flat, smooth stone, speckled with flint, that would serve the same purpose. He spat on the stone and got to work. He worked gently and patiently, so that the sound of steel on stone wouldn’t carry through the woods.
The knife itself was a Böker lock-blade, made in Germany. He hadn’t brought any of his own hand-made knives with him on the trip, but he had to admit that the German knife was a quality product. After a while, he tested the edge with his thumb. The steel took an edge well and held it.
When he was finished with the knife, he moved on to the rifle. Back in his military days, it had always been a source of ribbing — as much as anyone kidded with someone as serious as Cole — that he had the cleanest rifle in the army.
Old habits died hard. He didn’t have any proper cleaning tools to speak of out here in the woods, but he made due. Earlier, he had cut yet another strip from his tattered shirt and soaked it in some of the pork fat from supper. He used the rag to rub down every part of the action that he could reach, along with the exterior metal surfaces to protect them from the nighttime dew.
“It ain’t gun oil,” he muttered. “But grease from that boar will have to do.”
He unloaded the magazine and reloaded it. Two rounds left. It would have to be enough.
Cole ran his hands over the bright, smooth steel and the burnished walnut stock, enjoying the feel of the checkering under his fingertips. The sporterized Springfield was indeed a beautiful rifle. He just hoped that he had an opportunity to return it to Hans once this business was finished.
With the knife sharpened and the rifle ready to go, Cole leaned back against the fallen tree and gazed up at the stars. Danny slept, but Cole had Orion to keep him company. Some distance away, the dying flames of their campfire flickered through the empty woods. Hauer might be watching the fire, but he hadn’t shown himself. Cole stayed awake, keeping his own vigil.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dawn arrived slowly, the sun touching the mountaintops first, then creeping into the valleys. Cole stood and stretched, but didn’t feel the least bit cold. It was as if he could sense the heat of the coming action in his blood. One way or another, the final confrontation with Hauer would be this morning.
With any luck, Hauer had been drawn by the firelight and had spent the night watching the dying coals, anticipating his revenge. He would be as cold and exhausted as his quarry this morning.
Cole had spent those wakeful hours planning his trap. His plan was simple, but it was going to rely on Danny. The question was, would the boy be up to the task?
“You awake?” he asked, by way of waking Danny up.
Groggily, Danny opened his eyes. “Darn, I was hoping that all this was going to be a bad dream when I woke up, but I guess it wasn’t.”
“No such luck,” Cole said.
Quickly, he outlined his plan to Danny. Cole would walk out into the open, heading back to where he had butchered the boar yesterday, as if planning to carve off more meat for breakfast. He would leave the rifle with Danny, who would be hidden at the forest edge. Once Hauer showed himself, or if he took a shot at Cole, it would be up to Danny to put Hauer in his crosshairs and finish him.
Just as Cole had feared, Danny didn’t like the idea one bit.
“I can’t do it,” Danny protested. “You want me to shoot him?”
“You’ve got to,” Cole said. “My arm and shoulder are too stiff to shoot that rifle. It’s up to you.”
Danny shook his head emphatically. “I can’t. Pa Cole, you know I couldn’t even shoot a deer when you took me hunting back home. I just couldn’t. I sure can’t shoot a human being.”
“Even if that human being is trying to kill us?” Cole grumped. He had no such compunctions about defending himself from a threat, but he had to remind himself again that Danny was still young enough to trust that people were essentially good. Cole had learned otherwise a long time ago.
“You know what I mean. It’s not right.”
“Danny, Hauer doesn’t have any human decency. Put it out of your head that you’re shooting at a person. He’s just a target. Instead, remember all the basics of shooting that I taught you. You’re a good shot, Danny. You can do this.”
“How am I even going to see Hauer if he’s still in the trees?”
Cole had thought about that. “The thing with Hauer is, he’ll want to gloat. He ain’t gonna shoot me from a distance if he can avoid it. If he does, he’ll wound me and then come closer to finish me off. He’ll want to make sure that he’s the last thing I see.”
“So you’re using yourself for bait?”
Cole didn’t comment on that, but only handed Danny the rifle. “You’ve got two shots,” he said. “Don’t miss.”
“Easy for you to say.”
They crept closer to the edge of the forest, where it opened up to the valley. Cole got Danny set up with the rifle across a log, Cole’s cap stuffed under it to steady his grandson’s aim.
“Are you sure about this, Pa Cole?”
“You just remember everything I’ve taught you,” Cole said. “You may not be a hunter, but you know how to shoot. Just take your time and be sure of your target. You’ll do fine.”
Danny nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.
Hauer had them right where he wanted them. Cole was wounded, and that grandson didn’t pose any threat. They had tried to give him the slip on the ridge by laying the false trail, but Hauer felt confident that they had moved back down the mountain.
His instincts had been correct and he soon found their trail. All that he had to do was follow them. A wounded man and a teenaged boy had no hope of escape from The Butcher.
He made his way back down the mountain, taking his time. It would not do to be overconfident. Cole still had a rifle and could set up an ambush. The American might be wounded, Hauer thought, but he still posed a danger.
He thought back all those years to the war. The Hillbilly sniper acted as if Hauer should feel some remorse, but did the wolf regret the sheep that he had killed?