by Neil Hunter
“Cut out the fancy crap, Jonas,” Deeks said. “Just tell me what it all means.”
Randall leaned back in his chair. “In words you can understand, Deeks, that message makes it painfully clear that if we don’t complete the purchase of the Crown mines by the end of the month, then we can consider ourselves dead and buried.”
Decks’ chair creaked as he moved his heavy bulk. “Balls! They’re just trying to hustle us along. Shaking the big stick. Hell, Jonas, they’re all the same. They got to keep reminding us they’re the big boys.”
Frustration showed itself in Randall’s eyes as he thrust himself forward, driving a hard fist down on the polished surface of the desk top. “For God’s sake, Deeks, listen to me! I’ve worked for these people for too long. I’ve seen what can happen to someone who doesn’t come through for them. They don’t play games, Deeks, and they don’t have to show they’re the big boys. There’s no doubt. Deeks, believe me, they mean business! You don’t realize just how big an organization they are. Back east they have a finger in every damn pie. And I mean everything, from brothels right up to ship building companies. If it makes money they want in. It doesn’t matter who owns what. They find a way to get in, and once they do there’s no letting go as long as the money keeps flowing. Right now they see a very big profit in copper. Especially the copper in this mountain. But they won’t be satisfied with a little. They want it all, Deeks. Every last little piece.”
Deeks scratched his jaw, ringers rasping against unshaven flesh. “Why do they need it all?”
“Because if they get their hands on the whole mountain they can control the selling price. They can negotiate. Push up the price. Alter the stock-market values.”
“So why are they getting so fussy all of a sudden?”
“The Government will be issuing contracts next month to companies who can show they have a solid potential for long-term production. The bigger a company is the better contract it’ll get. So the more companies we can buy up and have registered before the end of the month the safer we’ll be.”
Deeks thought over Randall’s words for a time. “So what do we do?” he asked finally.
“Concentrate on the Crown mine, Deeks. Increase the pressure. We need that company bad. Every other mine owner in High Grade is watching how Crown behaves. It’s the biggest producer on this mountain. If Crown sells out to us the rest will do the same ... so hit ’em, Deeks, hit ’em hard! I want that company on its knees begging me to buy!”
“What about that son of a bitch Bodie?”
“Angela Crown made a smart move there,” Randall said, a mirthless smile crossing his face. “Bodie’s already cost us three good men. Oh, by the way, I had a message from Struthers and Cooly. They’re in the Ridgelow jail. Bodie put them there.”
‘Bastard,’ Deeks mouthed silently. To Randall: “What are you doin’ about them?”
“Struthers and Cooly?” Randall grinned. “Not a damn thing, Deeks. As far as I’m concerned they can stay in jail and rot.”
“I kept telling you that pair were useless,” Deeks said. He stood up. “This Bodie.” You want him out of the way?”
“He’ll be a damn nuisance as long as he’s alive,” Randall said. “Though I’d like to have another talk with him. See if I can persuade him he’s wasting his time working for Crown.”
“I wouldn’t mind getting the bastard behind bars myself for a spell,” Deeks said. “I owe that son of a bitch!”
“See what you can arrange,” Randall suggested.
“It’ll be a pleasure,” Deeks growled.
Randall watched Deeks carefully adjust his hat. “Just take things easy, Deeks,” he said dryly. “Don’t let this matter of Bodie go to your head!”
Deeks left the office, banging the door behind him.
For a time Randall remained in his chair. He took a cigar from a box on the desk and lit it. He stood up and went to the window. The daylight was beginning to fade. Lamps were being lit against the approaching darkness. Randall raised his eyes to the dark, looming bulk of the mountain. All that potential wealth, he thought. Enough of it to last for years. If he could pull off the purchase of all the mineral rights it would be worth millions to the people he worked for. And it would set him up for life. Prove his worth in their eyes. He thought of Angela Crown. Her stubborn refusal to sell, even in the face of personal danger. Damn and blast the woman! It wasn’t right that one damn woman should stand between him and the greatest triumph of his life. He had to break her. No matter that she was a woman. She’d chosen a man’s world so let her play by their rules, hard as they could be. One way or another he would break her. He had to. Because if he didn’t break her the Organization would break him. And they were pitiless in their dealings with failed employees. It was no use trying to run from them. Escape was impossible. There was no way out.
Turning from the window Randall picked up his hat and left the office. He made his way through the building, out on to the street. Threading his way along the crowded boardwalk he reached and entered the telegraph office. Nodding curtly to the operator, Randall drew a message pad towards him and began to write a confident-sounding reply to the message he’d received from his superiors. If he could convince them that he had everything under control they might not bother to send out one of their people to check on him. That was the last thing Randall needed. He had three weeks before the end of the month. If he wasn’t able to secure the Crown mine before then nobody would do it. The trouble was, the more he thought about it, the time left to him seemed negligible. Three weeks. To some it could be a lifetime. As far as Jonas Randall was concerned right at that moment, three weeks was nothing. Sweet damn all! And if he didn’t come through as he’d promised those three weeks could easily turn into his last days on earth.
Chapter Eleven
Sometime near midnight Bodie was taking another walk around the Crown mine compound. It was pretty quiet by this time. Most of the miners had turned in for the night, though a lamp still shone from one of the bunkhouse windows. Crossing the open compound Bodie was aware of how vulnerable the place really was to attack. But then it had been designed as a work area and not an army post. Soft footsteps caught his attention. Bodie eased his rifle out of the crook of his arm as a dark shape came out of the shadows. Then he relaxed as he recognized Hal Benteen’s features.
“Bodie?” Benteen asked and caught the answering nod.
“Trouble?” Bodie asked.
“Could be. I reckon I heard horses coming in up the north corner of the compound. Six, maybe seven of them. Moving real cautious.”
“Let’s go take a look,” Bodie said, and they moved off across the dusty, moonlit compound.
The night exploded in their faces! There was a thunderous blast of sound, followed by a brilliant flash. A great, rolling cloud of dust and smoke rose skywards.
“Judas Priest!” Benteen yelled.
Bodie didn’t answer. He was already running in the direction of the explosion, knowing full well that they were going to have a fight on their hands.
The blast had come from the section of the compound Benteen had mentioned. As Bodie rounded the end of a long wagon shed he saw the place where the explosion had torn down the fencing, opening a way into the compound, and through the gap rode a bunch of dark-clad riders. They were yelling like Indians, triggering wild shots from their guns, as they began to spread, breaking apart.
Bodie threw his rifle to his shoulder and shot the nearest rider out of his saddle. The rider described a perfect back somersault before his twisting body slammed to the ground, blood fountaining darkly from the ugly wound in his chest. He half rose to his feet, still clutching his gun, and Bodie put two more bullets in him. The man went down a second time, and this time he stayed down.
Pulling back against the wagon shed Bodie let the rest of the riders sweep on by him. Then he stepped out from the blackness and opened fire on the riders. A horse went down, screaming wildly, the rider spinning helplessly across the compound, exposed by
the silvery light of the moon. He caught his balance, began to turn, looking for his horse, and found himself face to face with Hal Benteen. There was no hesitation in Benteen’s reactions. He simply lifted his handgun and blasted twin holes in the man’s chest.
The other riders, realizing that things weren’t turning out as they had planned, reined their horses about and began to trade shots with Bodie and Benteen. But the riders were bunched together in the middle of the open compound, illuminated by the moonlight, while Bodie and Benteen, now joined by Will Jordan, were doing their shooting from the shadows.
The compound echoed to the sound of shots, the scream of injured and frightened horses. Bullets howled viciously back and forth.
One of the riders suddenly turned his horse and took it across the compound. Bodie watched him, wondering what the man was up to. The reason revealed itself when the rider jerked his right arm up and forward, tossing something in the direction of the bunkhouse.
Realization hit Bodie with the force of a physical blow. He ran out from his position beside the wagon shed, across the compound, ignoring the bullets coming his way. Yet even as he ran he knew he was far too late. There wasn’t a thing he could do …
For the second time the darkness was lit by the flash of an explosion. The dull blast of sound sent shock waves rippling across the compound, and the air was suddenly full of flying debris.
The explosion ripped the bunkhouse wide open. The wooden structure disintegrated under the tremendous force. A billowing pall of smoke engulfed the shattered building. Then, as the smoke subsided, Bodie saw the orange tongues of flame rising out of the great, tangled mass of splintered wood.
A wild rage flowed over Bodie. Heedless of his own danger he angled across the compound, his rifle blasting shot after shot at the assembled riders. From the other direction Benteen and Jordan were doing the same. The riders found themselves caught in a deadly crossfire. Two went down. Then a third. A panic set in amongst the riders. As if with a single thought they turned their horses, spurring them back across the compound, towards the gap in the fencing. Bodie, Benteen and Jordan followed them, emptying two more saddles before the remaining riders went through the fence and on into the shrouding darkness beyond.
“Jordan!” Bodie yelled. “Stay close. Keep your eye on that gap! If anything shows in that hole, put a bullet in it!”
Jordan, already reloading his rifle, nodded, and walked in the direction of the shattered fence.
“Hell, Bodie, I know you said things might get lively,” Benteen remarked as they walked back towards the bunkhouse. He thumbed back his hat, surveying the destruction before him. “Lively ain’t the goddam word!”
Dazed figures, bloody and heat-scorched, were stumbling from the wreckage of the bunkhouse. From the pile of shattered timber could be heard the moans of injured men, and somewhere a man was crying out in pain.
Bodie and Benteen put aside their rifles and moved to help the men coming out of the debris. One of the first Bodie encountered was Len Treval. The mine manager had a bad gash over his left eye that was spilling blood down his face. He was clutching at his left arm, and Bodie saw that there was a thick sliver of wood deeply embedded in the upper part of the arm. Despite his injuries Treval was fully in control of his senses.
“You get any of them, Bodie?” he asked.
Bodie nodded. “Yeah.”
“Good!” Treval hissed through clenched teeth. He glared up at Bodie. “If you find any of the bastards still alive let me know!” You hear me, Bodie?”
“I hear you, Treval, and I reckon half of High Grade can as well. Now go and sit down somewhere until I can get the doctor up here.”
“Hey, Bodie, you want me to go and fetch him?” Benteen asked.
“Do that, Benteen. Tell him what’s happened and say we aren’t sure yet how bad it is.”
Benteen turned and ran to his horse. He opened the main gates of the compound and rode off down the trail in the direction of High Grade.
Bodie spent the next half-hour doing what he could for the survivors of the explosion. By the time Benteen returned with the doctor and Angela Crown, Bodie had made a count of the miners. There were four dead. Three had serious wounds from the explosion. The rest, including Len Treval, had escaped with relatively minor wounds. Bodie had also checked the shot raiders. Here the mortality rate proved higher. There were seven dead and three wounded.
“Bodie, I can’t believe it,” Angela said. Her eyes were moist with tears as she moved among the dead and wounded. “Is this really happening? Is Randall so desperate to get his hands on this mine he condones this sort of thing?”
“Looks that way,” Bodie muttered. “You ready to quit?”
Angela looked at him in amazement. “Are you being funny, Bodie?”
“No. But this is as good a time as any to step back and figure the odds. Hell, Angela, it ain’t going to get any better.”
She sighed wearily. “No, I realize that, Bodie.” Then: “But I’m damned if I’ll be intimidated. Let Randall do his worst. The Crown mine is not for sale!”
“Maybe it’s time we played by Randall’s rules,” Bodie said, and crossed over to where Len Treval sat waiting for the doctor to get round to him. He glanced up as Bodie approached. “Treval, you got any explosives on the site?”
“Sure,” Treval said. “But what the hell do you want ... ” A gleam showed in his eyes. “Bodie, what are you up to?”
“This mess started with a bang tonight,” Bodie said. “I figure it ought to end with one.”
Treval showed the manhunter the small hut where the explosives were stored. He watched as Bodie helped himself to some sticks and fuses.
“You go easy with that stuff, Bodie,” the Cornishman said. “Hell, man, I don’t want you blowin’ yourself to hell and back!”
“Treval, calm down. I’ve played with this stuff before.”
Bodie crossed to his tethered horse and swung up into the saddle. As he began to move off Angela appeared at his side.
“Where are you going, Bodie?” she asked.
Bodie smiled down at her. “Something I got to do,” he said. “You look after things here. I’ll see you later.”
“Bodie, you be careful!” Angela called as he rode off.
Once he was out of sight of the mine Bodie left the trail and took his horse across country. There were a number of curious sightseers on the trail, all moving in the direction of the Crown mine and Bodie didn’t want any contact with them. He rode at a steady pace, entering High Grade from the darkness at the rear of the main street. He found a place where he could tether his horse out of sight and made his way on foot along the silent backyards of the buildings.
He eventually reached his destination and spent some time checking that the building was empty before he forced a rear window, slipping silently inside. He located the stairs leading to the upper floor and on the landing he paused, kneeling on the floor while he prepared the sticks of explosives he’d brought with him. His preparations completed, Bodie set the bundle of the floor, struck a match, and lit the fuse. It would take about twelve minutes for it to burn down, enough time for Bodie to leave the building, collect his horse, and go find himself a place where he could watch the result of his handiwork in comfort.
Five minutes later Bodie was tethering his horse to the hitch rail of a saloon. He stepped inside the noisy room, elbowing his way to the bar and ordered a drink. Nobody paid him any attention. Bodie leaned against the bar and enjoyed the momentary relaxation.
When the explosion came it caught Bodie unaware. The heavy blast of sound filled the saloon. An orange glare lit up the painted windows. Something flew across the street and shattered one of the windows, showering glass into the saloon. Men began to shout. A woman screamed. And then there was a mad stampede for the door as everyone went to have a look.
Bodie was suddenly alone at the bar. He glanced at the bartender who was stolidly wiping the top of the bar with a damp cloth.
�
�You hear something?” Bodie asked.
The bartender shook his head. “I don’t hear nothing mister,” he said. “That way I don’t get trouble.”
Bodie smiled at the man’s wisdom. He tossed some money on the bar and strolled to the door. A skinny man with wide eyes pushed past him, grinning all over his face.
“You hear what happened?” he asked Bodie, dying to tell someone what had taken place.
“What?” Bodie asked.
“Some son of a bitch went and blew Jonas Randall’s office building to matchwood!” The man giggled excitedly. “Hell, Randall’s goin’ to be mad as a wet hen when he finds out what happened.”
Bodie shoved his way through the crowd outside the saloon. He untied his horse and climbed into the saddle, turning the animal up the street. He glanced at Randall’s building as he rode by. The whole place was gutted, flames rising skywards from the tangled debris. Bright sparks floated off in the blackness, glowing briefly before they faded away.
Bodie rode on, out of High Grade, back towards the Crown mines. The line of sightseers, who had left town to investigate the explosion at the Crown mine, were now making the return journey to have a look at the night’s second strange occurrence. Bodie rode by them without so much as a glance. He was deep in thought, trying to figure Randall’s response to the strike back at him. The man wouldn’t let it go. Sometime, somewhere, he would hit out. Bodie knew he was going to have to be ready. Randall didn’t play games. He meant every move he made to have the maximum effect.
Bodie didn’t mind that. It was the way he played all the time. It was why he was still alive. And he intended to stay in that condition for a long time yet.
Chapter Twelve
“Bodie.” Angela’s voice was low, softly inviting. He glanced at her, conscious of his tiredness. “Yeah?”
“Don’t be long!” It was as much a plea as it was a directive, and its meaning wasn’t lost on Bodie.
He watched Angela vanish inside the house. He took the reins of their horses and led them across the yard at the rear of the house, pushing open the door of the stable. Taking the animals inside he led them to separate stalls, tethered them, then unsaddled and fed them. He tidied away the saddles and trappings, bent to pick up his rifle and gear, and that was when the world exploded around him.