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Axler, James - Deathlands 22 - Rider, Reaper
Ryan blinked his good eye. "I don't& You mean to stand there and let them
chill you?"
"Yes."
He considered the idea, deciding that it wasn't a good combat option, with the
likelihood that the defenders of the war wag would choose to stay snug
in-side.
"No. I can't let you sacrifice your life just like that. Death in a
firefight's one thing, but not this."
"You cannot stop him," Sleeps In Day said.
"Sure. But I won't support it. There has to be a bet-ter plan than that."
IT CAME from Jak.
"No need big fire," he said suddenly.
"How do you mean, Jak?"
The teenager nodded toward Ryan. "Important thing is make think fire."
J.B. slapped his hands together. "Dark night! Kid's got it. Sorry, Jak.
Slipped out."
Doc had been tracing invisible patterns in the sand with the ferrule of his
sword stick. "Forgive me, la-dies and gentlemen, but I fear that the young
man's runic comments have quite flown o'er my head."
Ryan explained. "Jak's right. A big fire wouldn't work. Take too long and the
risk of it being seen at the base. But if we lit a real small fire& "
The old man grinned, his perfect set of teeth float-ing like a row of ghostly
ivory
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Axler, James - Deathlands 22 - Rider, Reaper in the darkness. "A lit-tle smoke
and they will believe we intend to burn them out.
The frightening thought of remaining inside a po-tential oven will work
wonders on their depraved minds an "
"Rats from holes," Two Dogs Fighting concluded.
"Precisely," Ryan said.
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He chose Jak and Man Sees Behind Sun to go with him, leaving J.B. and the
others to follow close and pick positions where they could move in support.
Once everyone knew what they were to do, every-thing clicked quickly into
place.
Ryan had emphasized that the day would be lost if anyone opened fire too soon.
"Seems like four or five, and we know one of them's a woman. So, be triple
pa-tient. Make sure that they're all out in the open."
Trader had used to say, in that sort of situation, that a man who pulled the
trigger too hastily could reckon on chilling some of his friends with the
bullet.
RYAN CHECKED his wrist chron, knowing that J.B. would be doing the same,
somewhere in the surround-ing blackness, taking up the agreed positions in a
loose circle around the LAV-25.
Ryan had the only night sight and had handed over the Steyr rifle to Mildred
as the finest shot among them, a move that attracted some surprised looks from
the
Navaho at the idea of a woman having skill with a blaster.
She should be able to pick off some of their enemies as they scrambled from
the turret on the wag, while Ryan, with Man Sees Behind Sun and Jak, should be
close enough to take out the others.
That was the idea.
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Axler, James - Deathlands 22 - Rider, Reaper
DESPITE THE RECENT RAINS, it wasn't hard to find sun-dried branches of
sagebrush and mesquite and, best of all, a cluster of creosote bushes.
Moving with infinite care, Ryan and his compan-ions dragged the clumps of
vegetation along with them, closing in on the stalled vehicle. As they got
near, Ryan sniffed the air. Jak was right at his side.
"Gas?" the teenager whispered.
"Yeah. Must have a small leak. Could help us."
It was only a dribble of crude gasoline, running into the sand between the
rear wheels, but it would be helpful to get their fire going.
They'd all been out in the night long enough for their eyes to have become
reasonably accustomed to the darkness. When they got within a dozen yards of
the bulk of the wag, they all kept still, watching intently, trying to decide
if the
General's people had anyone on watch. But there was no sign of movement around
the turret.
Ryan had figured that their chances were good, even if someone was watching
from inside the wag. The big 25 mm Bushmaster cannon would be far too clumsy
to hit them at close range. And they would hear if any-one started to move the
M-
240 coaxial machine gun to open fire on them. The only serious risk that he
con-sidered was someone with a small-caliber handblaster firing from one of
the ports on the side.
But there was nothing.
"Asleep," the young Navaho whispered.
Ryan knew that there were two exits available on the LAV-25 one directly from
the turret, and the other nearer the front. If the plan worked, then those
inside were likely to come out either or both.
"Probably both," Ryan muttered.
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