“We heard an explosion and shooting,” Bic called, as he jogged toward Danya and the stranger, leaving his nephew behind with the cache of weapons.
When he got within ten yards, panting from the exertion, he said, “You all right?”
She nodded. “Two came up the backside of the ridge. I killed one. This guy here is Gordon. He tripped one of my mines. Looks like a nail ripped a wicked gash in his leg.”
Bic had already noticed the bandage and that he was limping severely.
“Are you and Eddie good?” she said. “No one is hurt?”
“We’re fine, thanks to your sharp shooting. They would have killed us, for sure.”
She resisted the urge to say I told you so, and instead looked beyond Bic, to the merchandise. Eddie was standing guard, gripping his rifle with both hands.
“We got the money!” Bic said. “It was in the backpack. That one over there was carrying it.” He motioned to the prone figure. “Hundred-dollar bills. All of it.”
“Where’s the pack now?”
“It’s with Eddie.” He paused. “What are we going to do with the guns and stuff?”
“I’ll deal with that. You just keep an eye on Gordon. He’s not going to run away, and I already searched him. Just have him sit, and don’t get too close. And keep your eye on him. Understand?”
Bic nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
She glanced at her watch. It was early afternoon already. The cloud cover remained, but at least it wasn’t dropping lower. Still, she would need to move quickly before darkness set in.
She crossed over to Bic’s nephew.
“Hey, Eddie. Everything good?”
He nodded emphatically. “Boy am I glad you’re on our side. That was some shootin’.”
“We have a change of plans, and I need your help.”
“Sure. What do you want me to do?”
“First, remove the tops of all six rifle crates and lay them on the ground. Let’s make sure everything is still there.”
“Okay, but they only removed and tested one rifle.”
She smiled. “Let’s just be sure, all right?”
Eddie shrugged and then placed his rifle on the ground so he had both hands free to complete the task. Danya picked up his weapon and placed the sling over her shoulder, along with the other rifle she’d taken from Gordon.
With the lids already pried open, Eddie was soon done with the task.
“Now what?” he said.
“Place one of these cases of dynamite in each crate with the rifles. Place the boxes of ammunition in the crates, too.”
“Why?”
“Because we can’t take these guns with us.”
“Hey,” Bic called, and jogged closer. “What are you doing?”
She spun on him, her carbine pointed at his chest. “These guns and explosives are not coming back.”
“Why?” Bic said. “I could find another buyer. There would be another job for you to provide security.”
“It’s not happening.” Her voice was firm, backed up with the muzzle of her rifle. “You better put your gun down.”
Bic’s eyes widened. “Okay. Whatever you say.” He dropped the carbine.
She nodded for him to step aside, and then gathered his gun, adding to her growing collection.
“Help your nephew. And be gentle. That stuff is shock sensitive.”
Each case held fifty pounds of high explosives, and with the rifle crates side by side, that meant the dynamite cases were also side by side. All she would need is one detonator, and the entire cache, all three hundred pounds, would explode.
When the two men had completed the task, they stepped away, allowing room for her to check their work. She shed the three carbines from her shoulder into the nearest rifle crate, and then retrieved a stick of dynamite.
She looked at Bic and then Eddie. “You would be safer to gather up Gordon and the mules, and move away to where the trail we came in on enters the meadow. That’s the way home.”
“What about you?” Bic said.
“I’ve got to gather up my gear on the hill. Then I’m departing in a different direction.”
“What about your pay?” Bic said.
She reached inside her jacket pocket. When her hand emerged, it held a radio-controlled detonator.
“I’ll wait until you and the animals are all at the edge of the meadow. Now get going.”
Bic turned for the pack that held the money.
“Leave it,” she said.
Bic pointed at the pack in exasperation. “But that’s the money.”
“Toss it here.” She kept her carbine trained on the gunsmith.
“But—”
“Do it. You’re in no position to argue the point.”
Thud. The pack landed at her feet.
Without lowering the gun, she opened the pack with one hand and reached inside to grab a bundle of bills. It still had the bank wrapper indicating the stack amount. She tossed it to Eddie, who caught it with both hands. Then she threw a second bundle to Bic.
“You get to walk away free men. And you each have $10,000 cash, unreported income.”
“But you can’t do that,” Bic said. “It’s not fair. That money is mine.”
“You’d both be dead if it wasn’t for me. Now get out of here before I change my mind and decide not to be so generous.”
Slowly, Bic turned and took two steps, then stopped.
“What about him?” He pointed at Gordon.
She shrugged. “I really don’t care much. You have the first aid kit, and if he’s bleeding a lot, apply a new bandage. But if you and Eddie are half-decent men—which I believe you are—then you’ll make sure he gets proper medical attention. If it were me, I’d drop him off at the nearest medical clinic and drive away. No questions asked. Get my meaning?”
With head hanging low, Eddie led the mules away, following his uncle.
She made quick work of inserting a detonator into the stick of dynamite, then returned it to the case with the other yellow sticks. She inched away toward the hill, keeping a close eye on the trio to make sure Bic didn’t dash back to disarm the explosives. It was slow going with the limping man, but they eventually made it to the edge of
