Outrageous Fortune-Errant Freight Book One

Chapter 5

"Bring me the case," Tariq ordered Deraun, stepping back as the slender outlaw's descent set a small avalanche of pebbles skittering to the canyon floor.

As they watched, Jagati fogged the air with a series of ripe curses, most of them aimed at John, who ignored her.

So did Tariq.

Now the satchel was almost in his hands, the shadow traders' leader seemed to relax. He even stepped closer to John. "Tell me," he asked, keeping his weapon trained on Jagati, "does she truly not know?"

"Know what?" John asked in turn.

"Ah." Tariq smiled. "I see."

"What," Jagati snapped from her spot in the firing line, "are you two gabbing about?"

"Nothing, apparently," Tariq replied, his attention sliding away from John.

"Although," John said, "I do wonder how a man as careful as yourself could have made such a significant tactical error."

Tariq's eyes narrowed. "Error?"

Before he could inquire further, John's hand snapped up to grab the shooter, pulling it towards himself so when Tariq's finger tightened on the trigger, the plasma burst missed Jagati.

It did, however, hit Deraun, if the strangled exclamation from above meant anything.

"You put yourself in my reach," John explained, using the leverage of the gun to pull Tariq around, throwing him back into the rock wall with enough force to crack the other man's head against the iridescent sandstone.

Just then Deraun came thudding to the ground in a puff of violet dust. From beyond John heard a series of shouts and thuds which told him Jagati and Rory had followed his lead in doing the needful.

Sure enough, as John made his move, Jagati dove away from the falling Deraun, straightening in time to see Rory snapping an elbow into his left-hand guard's arm to send her sword flying—which had the echo effect of scattering the guard's nearest compatriots as they tried to avoid being sliced by friendly cutlery.

Jagati lunged for Rory's right-hand guard, snapping an elbow across his jaw while Rory drove his boot into the same man's knee with cartilage-snapping force. The double assault left the guard rolling in the dust while Jagati grabbed his shooter and Rory engaged in a dodging game of net the queen with the now-swordless left-hand guard.

By now the rest of Tariq's company had recovered from the sudden show of resistance and were attempting to take aim at anything that moved.

An ominous splat of plasma from above (right, sniper) came so close Jagati thought she smelled her hair burning.

Another brace of thieves ranged outside the scuffle and apparently decided they'd have better luck taking out Rory.

Jagati used the whimpering right-hand guard for cover and started alternating shots between the shadow traders in the canyon and the sniper up above.

On the far side of the hot zone, behind the dust raised by their scuffle, a series of thuds, grunts and curses told her John was still busy with Tariq.

This is it, she thought. Any second now, someone's going to get a clear shot and that'll be the end—

"Hold your fire!" Tariq's voice scythed through the muddle.

Or not, she thought, letting her gaze slide sideways to where the aristocratic Tariq was on his knees, both hands on his head.

Behind him, John held a gun to Tariq's head. Given the same gun had been pointed at her head a few minutes ago, this gave Jagati a warm, fuzzy feeling deep inside.