by PAUL BENNETT
There were some murmurings of agreement from around the table. The old man who had spoken earlier shook his head and rubbed his back to emphasize his view.
‘I think it’s time we had an impartial view,’ said Rafael. ‘What do you think, Johnny?’
Nothing like being put on the spot.
‘I suppose,’ I said, playing for a little time, ‘that the decision depends mainly on money. You take their offer, buy somewhere else and have some money to put in the bank. The big question is: do you need the money? You have a community here and that shouldn’t be underrated. You have a simple life. You don’t seem to want for anything here – food on your plates and roofs over your heads. You have a lifestyle many would envy. What would you spend the money on? How would your life be improved?’
‘I guess it would be there to fall back on in hard times,’ Rafael said.
‘That’s what neighbours are for,’ said Red.
‘It’s your money,’ I said to Rafael. ‘The choice should be yours. What do you say?’
‘I say that we’re a democratic group here. Let’s put it to the vote.’
‘One last thing,’ I said. ‘Someone tried to buy Red’s land and when that didn’t work they tried to frighten us off. The same might happen to you if you turn down the offer. Someone wants this land badly. It might not be worth a fight for you, and you’re a far easier target than Red and we are. Things could get sticky, to say the least.’
‘Will you help us if it comes to a fight?’ Rafael asked.
‘To be honest,’ I said, ‘we’re pretty stretched as it is.’ I looked questioningly at Red. He nodded. ‘But we’ll be there if you need us. I promise you we won’t abandon you.’
‘Then let’s vote,’ said Rafael. ‘All those who want to stay, raise your hands. And now all those who want to sell up and move on, raise your hands.’
It was around a two-to-one majority for staying. The die was cast. I only hoped we could live up to our promise. Come to think of it, I only hoped we wouldn’t have to.
CHAPTER TWELVE
We decided to play it safe and not leave the ranch until one o’clock in the morning. There followed a long debate over who should go and who should stay on guard. Everyone wanted to be involved in the attack and in the end we reckoned that at that time in the morning we were pretty safe not to have to leave anyone behind.
As this was night time we donned our dark clothing and the four of us bar Bull, for whom it was unnecessary, buddied up to smear each other’s faces with dark camouflage make-up: Red went for the full war-paint look with stripes along each cheek. I hate to admit it, but we were starting to look the business. If I met one of us in the dark, I’d be scared.
We stowed our handguns in the shoulder holsters – silencers not yet fitted since it would make drawing the guns slower – loaded up the jeep with the assault rifles and our secret weapons, then we all squeezed inside. We drove for about forty minutes and parked where Jerome had indicated. It was further away than was ideal, but we’d just have to lug the equipment to the diner.
It was just like Jerome had described. If I needed a mapmaker in the future, then I’d choose him. The lights of the diner were still on and the white weatherboarding stood out against the backdrop of the hills. The light being on was a nuisance: it shone directly on the rows of around twenty bikes. There was a glow from the campfire, but everywhere else was pitch black. But in that glow we could see two seated figures, backs to us, around the campfire. They had to be our first target.
We were just about to launch our attack when I noticed a figure moving in the diner. It was a stout black lady whom I assumed to be Jerome’s sister. Surely she should have shut up hours ago, but it wasn’t she who was calling the shots: if the bikers wanted you open, then you did what they said and stayed open.
‘Stay here,’ I said to the others. ‘Don’t start anything until I have the black woman out and the lights go off. Once she is safe, we hit them.’
I headed out of range of the light and crept along parallel to the diner. When I was past it I circled around to the far side and peeked through the window. Chairs had been placed upside down on the tables and the black woman was mopping the floor. I had to get her attention. Then I realized the snag. If the woman saw me, she’d freak out – a warpainted warrior peering through the window would scare the life out of her. She’d scream her head off and alert the bikers. If that happened we would soon be surrounded. The biter bit. Mincemeat of five mercenaries.
I let out a deep sigh – my breath came out in a cloud. That gave me the idea.
I went very close to the window and breathed on the glass. I didn’t know how long the condensation would last so I wrote quickly, which is not easy to do when you’re writing backwards so that the letters come out in the right order for the viewer. I wrote just three words in block capitals – JEROME OPEN UP. I tapped as loud as I dared on the window and then crouched out of view.
No reaction.
I blew another stream on to the window to revitalize the letters and tapped more loudly this time. I checked the two men around the fire and they hadn’t moved.
A shadow came through the window. It was motionless for a few seconds and then disappeared from view. I heard the sound of the lock turning in the door and edged towards it. The door swung open and I jumped inside. I grabbed the woman around the waist from the back so that she couldn’t see my face and put my left hand over her mouth.
‘I’m a friend,’ I said. ‘Friend of Jerome. Johnny. You’re safe with me. Keep calm. Now I going to take my hand away from your mouth. Please don’t scream. Nod your head if you understand,’
She nodded. I took my hand away and let out the breath I had been holding. She turned around and let out a gasp when she saw my face.
‘What do you want?’ she said, her voice tinged with fear.
‘We’re planning a little party for the bikers,’ I said. ‘I need to get you away from here. Somewhere safe.’
She nodded again, still not over her panic on seeing me.
‘In a moment I want you to turn the lights off and we’re both going to step through the door. Can you manage to run?’
‘Sure can,’ she said, calming down a little now. ‘Like the hounds of hell are after me.’
‘That may be nearer the truth than either of us would want. OK, lights off.’
She reached to a panel behind the door and flicked switches to turn off several banks of fluorescent lights inside the diner. They flickered and died.
I took hold of her and guided her outside. ‘OK, run,’ I said. ‘Follow me.’
I checked that the two men around the fire were still looking the other way, took hold of her hand and we ran in a straight line back to the others.
She stared at them for a while. ‘Name’s Marsha, by the way. Good job you’re friends,’ she said. ‘I wield a killer mop.’
‘Where do you live?’ I said.
‘Back down the road a mile. Fifteen-minute walk.’
‘OK,’ I said. I pointed in the other direction. ‘Back a way down the road you’ll see a jeep. Sit there and wait for us and we’ll take you home. You’ll hear a lot of loud noises. Just stay where you are and you’ll be fine.’
‘Whatever you’re going to do, good luck,’ she said and walked away down the road.
I motioned to Bull and Pieter and pointed my finger at the two men seated around the fire. Fortunately, they were sitting next to each other rather than facing, which meant that both Bull and Pieter could approach the men from behind and not be noticed. We’d been through this sort of scenario while rehearsing the plan. Bull and Pieter drew their guns and crept up to the fire. One blow to each man’s head was enough to knock them out and remove them from the action. They grabbed the men under the arms and dragged them back to the safety of the trees – our preference was to get away without any severe casualties. Shock and awe. Phase 1 complete.
Red and I drew our handguns and fitted the silencers. We went across
to the diner. Our first target was the engines. Red went to the far end of the line and I took the nearer end. We opened the petrol caps and poured sugar inside the tanks. The sugar would gum up the works and the engines would be dead. A great way to immobilize a vehicle without showing any visible signs.
We next worked back along the line, firing shots at both tyres of every bike; they could not now be ridden until fitted with new tyres, and the chances of getting forty or fifty spares in one go were low. Phase 2 complete.
Now for the fun. Bull and I spread out so that we were at opposite sides facing the tents. Time for Pieter, Red and Stan to take centre stage. I saw three lighters shine brightly in the darkness and that was the cue for Bull and me. We opened fire with our assault rifles, spraying the ground in front of the tents and making loads of noise. Then the Molotov cocktails started raining down.
The campsite was awash with light now. Men in their underwear started to crawl out of the short narrow openings of the tents, saw what was happening and ran in panic towards the woods. Wherever they ran, a Molotov cocktail followed them. We kept throwing till the men had disappeared in the distance and every tent was ablaze. Third and final phase complete. Time to head for the hills.
We abandoned the empty beer crate and the packets of sugar, sprayed one last volley of bullets from our assault rifles and ran as quickly as we could back to the jeep.
‘You take Marsha back home, Red. We’ll start walking and you can pick us up on the way back,’ I said.
He held the door open for Marsha, jumped into the front seat and sped off into the distance.
We started walking. The absence of light kept us to a slow pace, but that didn’t matter – there was no danger from the bikers and it would only be a few minutes before Red picked us up.
We saw the headlights in the distance and stepped into the cover of some trees until we were sure it was the jeep. Red brought the jeep, brakes full on, to a halt beside us and we climbed inside.
He drove us back at breakneck speed and, adrenaline pumping through our veins, we collapsed with laughter into the chairs around the table. Charged up as were, there would be little sleep tonight. We poured ourselves a drink and toasted each other.
‘Well done, Stan,’ I said. ‘Everything went according to plan. I’d like to see those bikers’ faces in the morning when they realize that they have no belongings except the underwear they slept in, and then see what we did to the bikes. I think we’ve bought ourselves the time we need. And I’d also be surprised if some of those bikers didn’t turn tail and run.’
‘Sure showed them we were no pushover,’ Bull said. ‘Been a while since I had such fun.’
‘Beats a safari every day,’ said Pieter, giving a big grin.
‘I’d like to see the face of the man in black when he hears the news,’ said Red. ‘Wonder what he will do then?’
‘Somehow we need to track him down,’ I said, ‘or at least get him to come to us. The bikers are a threat because of their numbers – and after tonight they won’t hold back when they hit us – but the man in black can afford to wait and pick us off one by one, if necessary. If he kills Red, maybe he’ll think we’d have no reason to stick around.’
‘Thanks for that comforting thought,’ Red said gravely.
‘We need another plan,’ said Stan. ‘I’ll start working on it in the morning. Can’t think straight at the moment. Need to rid my head of tonight and all the excitement.’
I downed my first vodka and poured another.
‘You do realize what we’ve done?’ I said.
All eyes at the table turned to me.
‘What?’ Bull said.
‘After tonight there can be no turning back. Our enemies will double their efforts. We have to see this thing through to the bitter end.’
‘Bring them on,’ Pieter said.
‘Yeah, bring ’em on,’ echoed Bull.
‘Hell,’ I said. ‘Reckon so.’
The sheriff came just after nine in the morning. We broke off the digging to watch him walking along the track, seeing that his car couldn’t get through our barricade. I suspected that would only exacerbate a bad mood.
‘What are you boys up to?’ he asked. ‘Seems like you’re always up to something.’
‘Can’t have idle hands,’ I said. ‘Makes work for the devil.’
‘We had us a bit of a ruckus,’ he said. ‘At the diner. Someone did a pretty good job of scaring the bikers. They’ve got nothing to wear and their bikes were sabotaged. Wouldn’t know anything about it, would you? What were you boys up to around one thirty in the morning?’
‘That’s the time we have our sewing circle,’ I said. ‘Idle hands, remember?’
‘I might have known I wouldn’t get a straight answer.’ He took off his hat and wiped his brow with the back of his hand. ‘’Course I’m mighty riled up that someone could come into my territory and upset those nice biker boys. Almost cried in my coffee when I heard about it.’
‘Understandable,’ I said. ‘Them being such good role models for the youth of today.’
He nodded. ‘That too,’ he said. He looked around at the digging. ‘Expecting any more trouble?’
‘Nothing we can’t handle,’ I said.
‘That I can believe,’ he said. ‘Mighty big pit you’re digging. Gonna be deep enough?’
‘We hope so. But, if not, we’ve got a few more tricks up our sleeves.’
‘That I can believe, too.’ He frowned. ‘This is a pretty thin line you’re treading. Don’t fall on the wrong side or I might have to show you that mean side of me. Only got room for two in my cells, so I won’t be taking any prisoners. Understand me, boys?’
‘Crystal-clear, Sheriff,’ I said. ‘We’re both on the same side.’
‘Make sure you remember that.’
‘Oh, and Sheriff,’ I said. ‘We’d rather you didn’t tell anyone about the pit.’
He put his hat back on, turned around and said as he walked off, ‘What pit?’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was time for a bit of metaphorical digging as opposed to the real stuff. Our best clue as to what was going on was the letter to Rafael containing the offer to purchase his property. It was time we went to see the legal hotshots: Crane, Oaks & Crane.
Red and I set off early in the jeep, stopped at the Retreat to pick up the letter and headed out on Route 20 to Odessa. It was just short of a hundred miles, which would be covered pretty quickly with Red driving – if luck was on our side and we actually got there in one piece, that is.
When we got to the town of Pyote – about a third of the way there – I spotted a café that was advertising fresh doughnuts. I told Red to stop and we went inside. It was a small place with red-check tablecloths and pine chairs. There was hardly a seat to be had, which spoke well for the place, and, hopefully, for the quality of the doughnuts. There was a heated cabinet displaying a whole variety of them. I got myself a bag and, using the tongs provided, got a mixture, eight in all. To this we added coffee in paper cups and paid the lady behind the counter. When we got back to the jeep I handed Red the bag and the coffees.
‘You eat and drink and I’ll drive for a while.’
He looked at me suspiciously, then took a look inside the bag of doughnuts, weakened, and nodded. He climbed into the passenger seat and started eating. I drove off at normal speed and listened to him munching. The doughnuts smelt good, but they could wait till we next stopped.
‘Tell me about this poker game,’ I said to Red. ‘Did you risk all the money we made in Amsterdam?’
‘Wasn’t no risk involved,’ he said. ‘I knew I had him beat.’
‘Must have been a pretty big bet,’ I said.
‘The guy who owned the ranch was in hock to the bank for the mortgage. He was struggling with the payments and was getting desperate. He called a high-stakes game and hoped to win enough money to solve all his problems, or at least buy him some time with the bank. He was a lousy poker player when he was s
ober, but he’d been drinking and that made his judgement unreliable. I knew if the cards fell for me I could clean up.’
He took a sip of his coffee and rolled it round in his mouth, savouring the flavour, before swallowing it.
‘We were playing seven-card stud. I’ve got two queens in the hole and two more queens and a ten face up. Don’t get that kind of hand too often. His face cards were two jacks and a deuce – the most he could have was four jacks and I beat that. He must have thought I was bluffing, or maybe he didn’t see the significance of my face cards, just kept pushing the money in till he had nothing left on the table. Said he’d back his hand with the ranch, less the mortgage.
‘I could get the cash to cover that bet – hadn’t hardly touched the money we made in Amsterdam. I called him and he laid down his cards, full house, jacks on deuces, smiling all the time. I faced my cards and he slumped back in his chair.
‘The ranch and all the land was mine, provided I could keep up with the mortgage payments – and that wasn’t a problem. I could use the Amsterdam money for that while I built up the business so that it was profitable. He handed me the deeds the next morning. Then he shot himself that night. Put a bit of a dampener on things.’
‘I can imagine,’ I said. ‘Did he have any family or anyone who might want revenge on you? Could be another reason why you’ve got all this trouble.’
Red shook his head. ‘He was a loner – no family. Wasn’t popular either – was a loudmouth as well as a drunk. I doubt there’d be anyone who would want to get even.’
‘Promise me you won’t do anything as stupid again. No big risks. You’ve got the chance of a good life here – don’t spoil it.’
He gave a non-committal grunt.
‘Get a good adrenaline rush playing poker. Hard feeling to beat. I was pretty high when we got back from Amsterdam. Poker was a way of getting some of that excitement back.’
We were coming to the outskirts of Odessa. I pulled the jeep over.
‘Your turn to drive,’ I said. ‘Can’t resist those doughnuts any longer.’