Eric Flint - Time spike

"No, let's get back to work." They set as many bombs as they had, just in time to make Rod's new deadline. Now, they had to leave. The first light of dawn would be appearing in less than half an hour. Once they got into the woods, they looked back. "How soon, do you think?"

Cook asked. "Don't ask me. I told Leffen I wanted detonators that, whatever else, wouldn't go off too quickly. But how that weird chemical setup he designed works, I have no idea. There wasn't even a fuse." "Burning fuse would've been spotted by the first man who saw them," said Kidd. "Way it is, even if somebody does see the bombs before they go off, they'll just think some lazy con left a bunch of jars full of piss lying around. And"-here came his shark's grin-"being lazy cons themselves, won't even think to haul them out." Rod understood why Cook had asked the question. He was tempted to wait himself, to see what would happen when the bombs went off. But that might take hours, for all he knew. They'd been up all night and they were all tired, especially Marie. They needed to get at least a mile into the woods-two would be better-before looking for a place to sleep. "Let's go," he said. "We'll know soon enough. Once Andy hears about those lockers, he's gonna go ballistic." "Andy Blacklock doesn't ever go ballistic," said Marie. Rod chuckled. "Fooled by appearances.

I don't mean ballistic as in blowing his stack. I mean 'ballistic' as in figuring out the same thing I did. Luff's regime is self-destructing. Best to help it along as fast as possible. Watch and see if I'm not right. This isn't going to be a slow war of siege and attrition." After a while, he added: "And there's something else. I don't really understand it, because it's not my nature. But Andy Blacklockcares about his prisoners. The word 'guard' means a lot of things to him, besides a paycheck and keeping the streets safe for politicians to go campaigning in."

Chapter 50 Adrian Luff leaned back in the chair in his office and gave the punk standing in front of the desk a long, cold stare. The punk shrank inside his paper coverall, the only thing Luff allowed men to wear any longer, unless they were one of his own. It was harder to conceal a weapon in the paper folds. And if anyone was planning to run, they'd think twice if even their clothes would be gone after one or two days out there with the dinosaurs. "Do you think I'll pull out the ankle shackles and put you on a chain gang clearing the side of the road?" Luff tried to remember the punk's name, but it wouldn't come. "Forget that. I won't lock your ass down, toss you into the hole for a month, or any of the nice things you would have gotten from Blacklock. You will die. Slowly, but not all that slowly." "Listen, boss. I ain't dissin' you. I don't know nothin'." "You were on the wall when the gate blew. If you didn't see something, you should have." The punk shook his head. "I don't be lookin at nothin' 'cept the cock in front of me. I just tryin' to stay alive." "You're just some poor bitch having to turn tricks to get by. Right?" The punk looked at the floor and nodded. "Well, you either remember something worth remembering, and give me a name-or you will spend the next six hours in a dentist chair. Ever had a healthy tooth pulled with no anesthetic?" Luff didn't wait for an answer. "It makes for a substandard day. On the bright side, having no teeth might be a professional help to you. Logan, take this dickwad to the infirmary.

Pull every tooth in his head. When you're done, bring him back to me.

I think he'll be more willing to chat then." "No!" The punk trembled, his face graying. "Wait! I'll tell ya, I did see somethin'. A man!"

"Too late. You can't miss a dental appointment. We'll talk afterward.

Or rather, I'll talk and you'll mumble." The punk didn't know anything, Luff was sure of that. But someone did. And when word got around about the dentist chair, those who did know would stand in line to tell him what was what. It has to be Bostic. And Cook, probably.

And they must have had inside help. Bostic had been gone almost a week. He'd disappeared the day of the riot, after hooking up with Boomer's boys. Cook had probably gone with him too, although no one had seen him. That was fine. Let the bastards leave. He hoped one of those things with the big teeth and big claws got them. But why would Bostic blow the gate, too? It made no sense. The man had wanted to tuck tail and run south, not run the prison. The armory had been stripped, which did make sense. Luff and his men still had pistols, but it wouldn't be long before the ammunition for the rifles ran out.

If another big riot broke out, they'd be in a real jam. After that, they'd be down to pistols, and cons weren't that afraid of sidearms.

Not afraid enough, anyway. Sooner or later, some of them would work themselves up to rush Luff's reliables. When that happened, they'd get their hands on at least a few of the pistols and there'd be all hell to pay. There was only one solution. It was time to tighten the screws again. This time, hard and fast. Break everybody's spirit all the way down, including that of his own people. He couldn't take the chance that another Collins might emerge. That was the reason he'd had the four guards watching the main entrance immediately executed. The armory had been plundered right under their noses! No second chance, no mercy. Do as you're told, do it now, and do it right. Or you go into the freezers. Or wherever else Luff figured to put them, once the freezers finally filled up. Which would be by tomorrow morning, he reminded himself. At first, he'd thought maybe Blacklock and the guards had done it. But that didn't make any sense, on at least two counts. First, the whole operation had been too ruthless. Everybody knew Blacklock and Schuler were softheaded. And maybe they'd died and now Hulbert was running the show out there, but Hulbert wasn't bright enough to have figured out something like this. For Christ's sake, the man was one of those survivalist goofballs. Spent his weekends voluntarily doing what no one in his right mind would do for money. A guy like that was hardheaded, sure, but he had a brain the size of a walnut. Besides, Luff knew from Collins what Blacklock and his people had taken out of the prison when they left. They'd had no explosives.

Whatever had been used to blow the gates had been something jury-rigged. Probably from the kitchen locker room supplies, from the looks of things. What upstanding officer of the law would know how to do that? Answer: None. Even Collins had been a dummy, that way. But Bostic might very well know. And if he didn't, one of Boomer's boys would. Carter Leffen had been one of the men spotted leaving the prison in that faked "plague" caravan. Everybody knew he was a wizard at making things go boom. Adrian enjoyed solving puzzles. It was the only pleasure he had left.

Chapter 51 "No," Andy said firmly. "We go as fast as possible. We wait just long enough for that one catapult to be finished. That'll be enough to send over the smoke bombs that Leffen's making up. To hell with anything fancier." Rod scratched his jaw. He'd known Andy would want to move quickly, but he hadn't foreseen anythingthis quick. They hadn't gotten back and given their report but three hours ago. "A smoke bomb won't hurt anybody." "I know that," Andy said patiently.

"But it will confuse them-and by now I'm sure that regime of Luff's is held together by nothing more than chewing gum and baling wire. I mean, Jesus. Three freezers stuffed with corpses and severed heads?

And we already knew from James here that Luff started his killing spree almost immediately. By now…" His normally ruddy face looked ashen. Rod knew that the news that hundreds of the inmates had been slaughtered was affecting him. The problem was that he thought it was affecting his military judgment too. But, to his surprise, Chief Watkins spoke up in support of Andy's plan. "I agree with the captain," he said. "Most forts get captured because the defenders are caught unprepared. That's how the Red Sticks took Fort Mims." He chuckled. "That backfired on them, of course, once Andy Jackson got into the act afterward. But that fucking asshole's nowhere around to save this Luff fellow's bacon." A big grudgingly, he added: "Not that he probably would have anyway." Cook weighed in, then. "Yeah, let's just do it. But I don't agree with one thing in your plan, Captain Blacklock. Just rushing the main gate seems… well, silly, to be honest. We should go for the armory again, too." "Thearmory? No matter how crazy Luff is, he's bound to have that well-guarded by now.