“That’s going to cost—”
“Yeah. I know,” Sam interrupted Howard. “How about we negotiate later?”
Howard shrugged. “Okay, but I’m trusting you.” He pointed at his own eyes, then at Sam, making an “I’m watching you” gesture.
“What are you going to do?” Dekka asked Sam.
“I’m going to deal with Caine. I have to stop him here.”
“You don’t want to go at Caine and Drake by yourself,” Edilio objected. “No way. I’m not letting you kill yourself.”
Sam forced a laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Howard, as soon as you get to town, find Breeze if you don’t pass her on the way. If you don’t find Brianna, find Taylor. Tell them to send help. And tell them I need someone to let me know what’s going on with you guys at the mine.”
“Maybe should have turned on the phones, huh?” Edilio said. He winced, realizing too late that it sounded like sniping.
Sam said, “Yeah. Add that to the list of mistakes I’ve made lately.”
“Yeah, here’s one not to make, Sam: don’t go in there by yourself.”
“Didn’t I just say I wouldn’t?” Sam said evenly.
Edilio looked him in the eyes. Sam looked down and said, “But in case anything happens to me, you all take orders from Edilio.”
Dekka nodded solemnly.
“Do not do that to me,” Edilio said. “Do not die on me, Sam.”
The fuel rod. Twelve feet long. Sheathed in lead now, but still so dangerous, so deadly.
Jack held what looked like an oversized remote control. His eyes bulged. He swallowed convulsively. He tapped a button on the remote, and the rod stopped moving. He let go a shaky sigh.
The fuel rod hung from the crane, swinging just slightly. Caine found himself drawn to it, wanting to touch it. But it was hot. From twenty feet away it brought beads of sweat out on Caine’s forehead.
Caine heard footsteps coming up from behind. Without turning to look, he said, “You jumped the gun, Drake.”
“Not me,” Drake said, panting. “Howard spotted me.”
“And Sam?” Caine asked, mesmerized by the dull gray fuel rod, by the contrast between its devastating killing power and its featureless exterior.
“He just pulled up with the Mexican.”
Caine glanced at the hole he’d made in the dome. A loose chunk of concrete came loose, fell a long way, and clattered noisily down on some unseen equipment. Through the hole he could see the hillside, purple in the dying light of the sun.
It would take Jack another ten, fifteen minutes, to maneuver the fuel rod to the loading dock. In ten minutes Sam could be here.
“We can’t have Sam on our butts as we move,” Caine said. An idea occurred to him. Beautiful in its simplicity. Kill two birds with one stone.
“Time for you to prove you’re as tough and mean as you think you are, Drake,” Caine said.
“I don’t have to prove anything,” Drake snapped.
Caine met his lieutenant’s furious gaze. He moved close to Drake. Close enough to whisper if he wanted to, but no, he wanted this to be very public. “Drake, when I sent Diana to get Jack, you know what? She got me Jack. Now, someone needs to stop Sam, or at least slow him down. Should I ask Diana to take care of that? Because she might just find a way. Sam is a guy, after all.”
Diana, bless her twisted heart, immediately saw what Caine was doing.
“Oh, Sam?” She laughed in her knowing way. “You know he’s got to be frustrated with his ice princess. It shouldn’t be too hard for me to . . . slow him down.”
The line would have worked better before Diana had shaved her head and dressed to look like a boy, but Caine saw that Drake immediately took the bait.
“That’s what you want?” Drake asked. “You want me to take Sam down? Either he kills me or I kill him, right? Either way, that’s good for you and this witch here.”
“You’re stalling, Drake,” Caine said.
Caine could practically read the psychopath’s mind as the gears in his head turned over the possibilities. No way Drake could refuse.
No way. Not if he wanted to go on being Whip Hand. Not if he ever hoped to replace Caine.
“I’ll take Sam down,” Drake said in a voice he intended to be menacing but that came out sounding just a little wobbly.
He must have been less than satisfied with the effect. So with a low growl he repeated, “I’ll stop Sam right here.”
Caine nodded, offering just the slightest acknowledgment. He turned away from Drake and winked at Diana, who kept her expression carefully blank.
Poor Drake. It wasn’t enough to be ambitious. A leader had to be smart. A leader had to be ruthless and manipulative, not just a thug.
Great leaders had to know when to manipulate and when to confront.
Most of all, a great leader had to know when to take great risks.
“Let’s hope they built that fuel rod strong,” Caine said.
He raised his hands and the fuel rod rose, floated in the air, tethered at one end to the crane.
“Hit the release,” Caine ordered.
Jack said, “Caine, if it breaks open—”
“Do it!” Caine roared.
Even Drake took a step back. And Jack hit the button that released the robot crane’s hold.
Caine thrust his arms forward, palms out. The cylinder flew like the bolt from a crossbow.
“Yeah. I know,” Sam interrupted Howard. “How about we negotiate later?”
Howard shrugged. “Okay, but I’m trusting you.” He pointed at his own eyes, then at Sam, making an “I’m watching you” gesture.
“What are you going to do?” Dekka asked Sam.
“I’m going to deal with Caine. I have to stop him here.”
“You don’t want to go at Caine and Drake by yourself,” Edilio objected. “No way. I’m not letting you kill yourself.”
Sam forced a laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Howard, as soon as you get to town, find Breeze if you don’t pass her on the way. If you don’t find Brianna, find Taylor. Tell them to send help. And tell them I need someone to let me know what’s going on with you guys at the mine.”
“Maybe should have turned on the phones, huh?” Edilio said. He winced, realizing too late that it sounded like sniping.
Sam said, “Yeah. Add that to the list of mistakes I’ve made lately.”
“Yeah, here’s one not to make, Sam: don’t go in there by yourself.”
“Didn’t I just say I wouldn’t?” Sam said evenly.
Edilio looked him in the eyes. Sam looked down and said, “But in case anything happens to me, you all take orders from Edilio.”
Dekka nodded solemnly.
“Do not do that to me,” Edilio said. “Do not die on me, Sam.”
The fuel rod. Twelve feet long. Sheathed in lead now, but still so dangerous, so deadly.
Jack held what looked like an oversized remote control. His eyes bulged. He swallowed convulsively. He tapped a button on the remote, and the rod stopped moving. He let go a shaky sigh.
The fuel rod hung from the crane, swinging just slightly. Caine found himself drawn to it, wanting to touch it. But it was hot. From twenty feet away it brought beads of sweat out on Caine’s forehead.
Caine heard footsteps coming up from behind. Without turning to look, he said, “You jumped the gun, Drake.”
“Not me,” Drake said, panting. “Howard spotted me.”
“And Sam?” Caine asked, mesmerized by the dull gray fuel rod, by the contrast between its devastating killing power and its featureless exterior.
“He just pulled up with the Mexican.”
Caine glanced at the hole he’d made in the dome. A loose chunk of concrete came loose, fell a long way, and clattered noisily down on some unseen equipment. Through the hole he could see the hillside, purple in the dying light of the sun.
It would take Jack another ten, fifteen minutes, to maneuver the fuel rod to the loading dock. In ten minutes Sam could be here.
“We can’t have Sam on our butts as we move,” Caine said. An idea occurred to him. Beautiful in its simplicity. Kill two birds with one stone.
“Time for you to prove you’re as tough and mean as you think you are, Drake,” Caine said.
“I don’t have to prove anything,” Drake snapped.
Caine met his lieutenant’s furious gaze. He moved close to Drake. Close enough to whisper if he wanted to, but no, he wanted this to be very public. “Drake, when I sent Diana to get Jack, you know what? She got me Jack. Now, someone needs to stop Sam, or at least slow him down. Should I ask Diana to take care of that? Because she might just find a way. Sam is a guy, after all.”
Diana, bless her twisted heart, immediately saw what Caine was doing.
“Oh, Sam?” She laughed in her knowing way. “You know he’s got to be frustrated with his ice princess. It shouldn’t be too hard for me to . . . slow him down.”
The line would have worked better before Diana had shaved her head and dressed to look like a boy, but Caine saw that Drake immediately took the bait.
“That’s what you want?” Drake asked. “You want me to take Sam down? Either he kills me or I kill him, right? Either way, that’s good for you and this witch here.”
“You’re stalling, Drake,” Caine said.
Caine could practically read the psychopath’s mind as the gears in his head turned over the possibilities. No way Drake could refuse.
No way. Not if he wanted to go on being Whip Hand. Not if he ever hoped to replace Caine.
“I’ll take Sam down,” Drake said in a voice he intended to be menacing but that came out sounding just a little wobbly.
He must have been less than satisfied with the effect. So with a low growl he repeated, “I’ll stop Sam right here.”
Caine nodded, offering just the slightest acknowledgment. He turned away from Drake and winked at Diana, who kept her expression carefully blank.
Poor Drake. It wasn’t enough to be ambitious. A leader had to be smart. A leader had to be ruthless and manipulative, not just a thug.
Great leaders had to know when to manipulate and when to confront.
Most of all, a great leader had to know when to take great risks.
“Let’s hope they built that fuel rod strong,” Caine said.
He raised his hands and the fuel rod rose, floated in the air, tethered at one end to the crane.
“Hit the release,” Caine ordered.
Jack said, “Caine, if it breaks open—”
“Do it!” Caine roared.
Even Drake took a step back. And Jack hit the button that released the robot crane’s hold.
Caine thrust his arms forward, palms out. The cylinder flew like the bolt from a crossbow.
