Part 30 (1/2)
The desert breeze was already starting to thin the chem fog, and so the sec men slowly began to advance into the dark clouds, disappearing from view. Drawing his own blaster, the baron waited impatiently for the sounds of combat to renew when somebody coughed a few more times in the alleyway behind him.
”Shut up, fools,” he snapped irritably. ”It's only smoke.” But then something hot and hard pressed painfully against the back of his head.
”Freeze,” Ryan ordered, grabbing a fistful of hair to hold the youth motionless. ”Tell your men to stop attacking and start shoveling sand.”
”What?”
”Put out the fire!”
Breathing hard, Leonard glanced down and through the thinning clouds of smoke. He could see the still forms of his bodyguards lying on the ground, most of their heads missing.
”Who the h.e.l.l are you?” he asked through clenched teeth.
Ryan shook the teenager hard. ”Doesn't matter. Give the order to your men, or I'll blow your f.u.c.king brains out.”
”I don't think so,” Leonard said smoothly, sensing a weakness to exploit. ”You need my men, so I stay alive. What with the fire, your b.i.t.c.h is trapped in there?”
Ryan wasted a live round jacking the slide so the noise would startle the man. ”Last chance.”
”And then I die anyway,” the teenager retorted, shaking with restrained fury. ”f.u.c.k you. Go ahead, chill me!”
A thunderous report shook the alleyway, and Leonard jerked free of Ryan's startled grip. Stumbling off his box, the teenager staggered against the garbage bin, and from out of the smoke strode Jarmal, the blaster in his hand bucking and jumping as he emptied it.
”That's for my daughter,” Jarmal said, reloading as he strode forward. ”Your father took her when she was twelve. Twelve years old!” ”My sympathies,” Ryan snapped. ”Order the men to put out the fire.”
The big man swung about, the pitted maws of their deadly weapons now aimed at each other. Time pa.s.sed in tense silence. The thinning smoke exposed the group of sec men on the sidewalk, and the burning building across the street. Grips on weapons were s.h.i.+fted as the men waited for a sign of what was happening.
”Ryan,” Jarmal said on impulse.
The one-eyed man narrowed his gaze. ”You know me?”
”No. Heard of you in a tale around a campfire.”
”And who are you?”
”Uther Jarmal.”
”The new baron,” Ryan said.
He almost smiled. ”Looks like.”
”Give the order. Fast.”
”Why? Let it burn, you're safe out here.”
”My business.”
The former sergeant locked gazes with the Deathlands warrior. ”You have a man trapped.” It wasn't a question.
Ryan debated on responses and chose the truth. ”Yeah.”
”Everything is for sale,” the man prompted.
”Blasters,” Ryan spit.
”Got lots. And more food than you'll ever see.”
”The Hummer.”
”Your wag? No thanks.”
Watching the growing conflagration, Ryan racked his brain for a bargaining tool. ”I know the secret location of the last six live muties,” he said in desperation.
Jarmal narrowed his eyes. ”Bull.”
Knowing it was time to go for broke, Ryan lowered his pistol. The sec men seemed stunned.
”This is how much I want the fire out and my son saved,” Ryan stated, holstering the piece. ”How bad you want those things dead?” ”Your son?”
”One of my girls had red hair,” a sec man said, hatefully gazing at Leonard. ”I joined the guards to try to get close enough to his father to ace the freak.”
”Me, too,” said another.