Eric Flint - Time spike

He'd been right, actually, as far as it went. The man in charge of this squad was no minor underling. It was Danny Bostic, one of Luff's three top lieutenants. Specifically, the one Luff had put in charge of handling the daily executions. And who'd done it very efficiently, day after day after day.

Chapter 31 "Hold this for me, Fritz," Bostic said, handing his shotgun to one of the men behind him. That was Arthur Fritz, another con who went back with Luff a long ways. He then shrugged off the heavy backpack he was carrying, as all of them were, and set it on the floor. His hands now free, Bostic pulled out the pistol in his waistband with his right hand and, from his back pocket, a flashlight in the other. The beam of the flashlight played across the cubbyhole, settling quickly on Brown. Her eyes shut against the light. After this many days in near darkness, the flashlight must have seemed blinding.

"And will you look at this? One mystery solved, anyway. Boys, we've discovered the whereabouts of the missing Elaine Brown. You remember her, I'm sure. That little black honey made such a stir when she started working in the joint." Elaine's lips tightened, along with her eyes. "You'd better stay away from me. I've got AIDS. Was diagnosed right after I started. They were planning to fire me." Bostic smiled.

"Nice try, girl. Relax. We didn't come down here looking for pussy."

One of the men behind him said: "Yeah, sure. But now that we found her, why not bring her along? A day into the woods, and pussy sounds real good to me. Especially that one." By now, James was standing up.

Since the flashlight was aimed at Elaine instead of him, he could see Bostic. A little wash of expressions went over the man's face at that suggestion. There was maybe a trace of lust there, but most of it seemed calculation. James didn't really know Bostic. But he knew he had a reputation for being a cold-blooded bastard, even by the standards of a maximum security prison. He didn't think Bostic himself had the inclinations of a rapist. But if Bostic decided it was a good idea to haul Elaine along to provide his men some entertainment, he'd do it without thinking twice. There was only one way to handle this.

Straight ahead. "You don't take the girl, Bostic. Just forget it."

Bostic's lip curled. "And what exactly are you going to do to stop me, Cook? What you got? A shiv? A sock full of batteries?" He hefted the pistol. "Meet Mr.. 40 caliber. Full clip. Not to mention our good Dukes Twelve Gauge standing right behind me." "Fuck you, Bostic. We're at close quarters and there are twenty of us. Stop flapping your mouth if you want to start killing and do it. But we'll take down at least two or three of you. We all got shivs and they work just fine at six-inch range." He jerked his head, indicating the floor above. "You aren't here on Luff's business, are you? No, you're looking to do the same thing we are. Get the hell out before the lunatic takes everybody down. Am I right?" Bostic made no reply, but something in his face made the answer obvious. "Thought so. Well, figure it out, then. It oughta be easy, unless you got the brains of a carrot. Even if you kill all of us and don't get a scratch yourselves, how many rounds will you have to fire? Twenty, rock bottom minimum. Be more like fifty or sixty. You think that won't draw attention?" He waited, just long enough for that to sink in. "And then what? You gonna hold off Luff and his men with a few pistols and shotguns? Just having used up half your ammunition?" He could sense their hesitation. The same shithead who'd proposed taking Elaine spoke up again. "He's bluffing, Danny.

They ain't got the guts." That was the wrong thing to say. Really, really, really, the wrong thing to say. The truth was, James wasn't sure if he was bluffing or not. He had no idea what the other Boomers would do, if the shit hit the fan here. But the one thing you didn't ever do with cons-sure as hell not anyone who made it into Boomer's good graces-was suggest he didn't have balls. The flaming gay one, especially. Kidd came to his feet, with a grin on his face that was really a snarl. "You're a dead man, Williams." A steel shank came into his hand from somewhere. "I guarantee I'll get to you." All of the Boomers were shifting their stances, now. And Kidd's wasn't the only hand holding a blade. At least a dozen were. "Hold it!"Bostic half-shouted. "Everybody. Just hold it." He turned his head slightly, not taking his eyes from James. "Williams, if you say one more word, I'll kill you myself." "Won't have to," muttered Fritz. He had his shotgun pointed more at Williams than at any of the Boomers, now.

"Shut the fuck up, you stupid bastard. Shut. The. Fuck. Up." Williams seemed to deflate like a balloon. James and Bostic stared at each other. "It's your call, Bostic," he said. "I'll give you ten seconds to make it." Danny knew he wasn't kidding. The Indian might well be bluffing, as far as what his men would do. Probably was, at least until Williams opened his fat mouth. But he wasn't bluffing about what he'd do. Cook hadn't bluffed since the day he walked through the gates. Danny made a quick note to himself to get rid of Williams. He hadn't been sure about him to begin with. He was only along because he was the one who'd had access to the armory. Concentrate, you idiot.

Three things made up his mind. The first was that James Cook was just plain scary. It was that goddam wood Indian face of his. You never knewwhat the fucker was thinking. He'd be hell on wheels at a poker table, if he could keep track of the cards and knew the odds. The second was that, on balance, he didn't think taking the girl was a good idea anyway. At first it would please his guys. But then what?

He'd sneered at Luff enough times, privately, because of the man's inability to think in the long run. So Danny had better not make the same mistake himself. What happens to a group of five men-four, soon-with one hot-looking woman among them? Nothing good, for sure.

And there were plenty of other women out there. Indian women, from primitive tribes. Maybe they were scraggly looking and stank, but that could be fixed. A little soap and combs went a long way. Most things could be fixed, if you were running the show and weren't stupid.

Finally, and simplest, rape didn't appeal to him. Not at all. And that it would have to be rape, with Elaine Brown, was obvious. Even when he got his hands on a native woman, he wasn't planning to force her. In the long run, that was stupid, and he wouldn't enjoy it in the short run. He wanted his women willing. Better yet, eager. And, unlike Williams, he hadn't been in prison for so long that he'd forgotten how to manage that. "Ease up, Cook," he said. "I'm not looking for a fight." He put the gun back into his waistband. "As you figured, we just want to get away from Luff." He turned his head; again, keeping his eyes on Cook. "Boys, we're all just going to stay calm and peaceful while we wait it out here for nightfall. Keep your guns ready, but that's it. You understand?" "Yeah," said Fritz. "We do.

Don't we, guys?" All of them murmured agreement. Including Williams.

"Okay, then," Danny said. He gave Brown a smile and a little salute with the flashlight. "Nice to see you again, lady. By the way-I'm just curious, that's all-whodid kill Terry Collins?" She cleared her throat. "Marie Keehn. She stayed behind, but her boyfr-ah, Lieutenant Hulbert-had her name crossed off the list so she wouldn't have any set post." Danny laughed softly. That really was pretty funny. That asshole Terry Collins, Mr. Swagger and Strut-plugged by a woman who didn't stand more than five feet, two inches tall. "Wish I'd seen it."

"It was pretty horrible," the girl said, wincing. "She shot him right in the head. At close range. One of his eyes came out." She was telling the truth, then. Danny had heard about the popped-out eyeball, from one of the men who'd seen the body. He grinned. "Still wish I'd seen it. I despised that prick." While he and Elaine had that little exchange, James had been thinking quickly. An idea had come to him.