The Historians
Chapter 16
Just as Matt had predicted, Bardee had almost a dozen donkeys on the beach the next morning, and they watched as the horsebox that had delivered them there was leaving and heading back to the ranch. A little later the second box could be seen going out through the town towards the A 30.
"I still don't see how they are going to get all those weapons up that cliff path."
"I think they have it all figured out, we just have to come back tonight and watch." Matt was now convinced that he knew exactly how it was going to play out.
It was after dark before they made their way back to the cliffs. They took up a position looking down on the small inlet where it was believed the boats would bring the smuggled goods in. Cranbourne had been told they would be using a submarine to get near the coast and then several small boats would meet it to transfer the weapons to shore.
There were several caves under the cliffs and Matt thought Bardee would be keeping the donkeys hidden there until they were needed. The tide was about right now, far enough out to leave room to transfer the loads to the animals, but not too far where they would be walking way out on the sand.
Matt felt Cranbourne's elbow nudging him, and he found a pair of night vision binoculars being pushed into his hand.
"Look there, you can just make out four small boats heading this way."
Matt raised the instrument to his eyes and scanned the water in the direction the Englishman pointed. Finally he picked them up. The boats had a low profile and were hard to see. Finally he could hear the soft purr of the engines as they got closer to shore. It was almost completely dark, just a small sliver of the new moon visible low in the sky.
They watched the boats come closer until they were about six feet from the waters edge. Suddenly the string of Donkeys appeared – almost from nowhere. Three or four men jumped from each boat and started securing packs onto the backs of the animals. It took them less than 30 minutes to get everything secured, then the boats headed out again and two men led the string of Donkeys along the beach to the start of the narrow zigzag track that led to the top.
"The coast guard will pick up those boats and the sub before they get outside the three mile limit. This is where our part begins." Allen Cranbourne could now see how the whole operation was planned. He had never imagined the donkeys being used for anything but rides for children on the beach. He never had thought of them being used as pack animals.
"We're ready," Matt commented half under his breath.
The Donkeys, even though they were heavily laden, seemed to make easy work of the narrow path. One man walked in front with the lead animal and the others followed, a second man brought up the rear. The sure-footed beasts were making good progress up the steep path working their way steadily up the cliff side.
"What do you suggest we do now Matt?"
"I've got an idea for that too. I think they are going to walk the animals out to join the horsebox parked there on the edge of the Moor. By cutting across the open land it is only about 6 miles – probably take them a couple of hours. We just have to get there without being seen and wait till they have transferred the guns, then we can take these men down.
"We can't just drive up there they will hear us coming. It's too quiet out there on the Moor, nothing to hide the noise of the engine."
"I've thought of that too. Come on lets go back to the Defender."
Matt had grown fond of the tough little vehicle. Somehow it reminded him of Buck, carrying him over rocks, along uneven trails and even across streams without putting a foot wrong. As he got behind the wheel he had the feeling that this was the last time he would be driving it.
He headed off towards the Bar D ranch. As before he stopped a good half-mile away and parked the vehicle behind some hedgerows where it would not be seen. He almost wanted to reach out and pat its neck and tell it goodbye, but instead he gave to keys to Cranbourne.
"You look after these," he said.
"Where are we going?" the Englishman asked.
"To get our transportation. Come on and be quiet."
He lead the way back to the farm hoping Bardee had not left too many guards behind – after all they were the one man short who had been captured at the cottage last night. He thought back to the night in the Jamaica Inn, there had been Bardee and about 5 farm hands. There were two men with the burros; he guessed they would have two more out there with the horsebox. That only left one or two at the farm.
They hid behind the same bushes they had used the night before and using the night goggles they could only see the two guards that were present last night. Tonight there were no noises of a party going on.
"I'll take the one at the barn if you get the other one."
The man on guard at the barn was a wiry little character, he had a shotgun but it was propped up against the wall behind him. He seemed half asleep as Matt crept along the side of the barn staying close to the wall. He was just about to grab the guard around the neck when the man suddenly swung around slashing a knife. Matt jumped back and the blade missed him by inches. The man was on him again. He was so agile that the Marshal felt it was like trying to catch a catfish with his bare hands.
The silence of the night is now shattered by the sounds of their struggle. Finally Matt manages to hold the man's arm long enough to twist his wrist and make him let go of the knife. As it falls to the ground he kicks it away, then lands a strong backhand using all the force he can muster. The man falls backwards from the force of the blow, but even so he lunges to get a hold on Matt's left leg to haul him to the ground also. Matt is faster and sidesteps the move, then dives on top of his opponent. They wrestle in the sandy soil for several minutes until Matt finally delivers a knock out blow to the man's jaw. He struggles to his feet breathing heavily for a minute, unable to believe that such a wiry little man could have given him so much trouble. He checks his prisoner for other weapons and finding nothing he looks around for some rope. All he can see is a lunge line hanging on a hook by the main door so using that he hog ties the man and secures him in the back of one of the empty stalls.
Looking around he sees Cranbourne heading towards him pushing the other guard in front of him.
"Looks like you put up quite a fight Matt," he says looking at the tall man's face, which shows the results of several well-landed punches, and grins.
Matt ignores the comment and goes looking for something to secure the second prisoner with, on the way he picks up the knife so as to move it far from these two.
Cranbourne looks around as Matt is just finishing tying their second captive with a couple of lead lines he managed to find.
"So where is this transportation you were talking about, we still have another 4 miles or so to go to meet up with that horsebox."
"Oh they're down at the far end, follow me and I'll show you."
As Matt points to the grey gelding and the sorrel mare in two stalls at the far end of the barn, a look of horror comes over the Cranbourne's face.
"Oh no, wait a minute now, I have never been on one of those things in my life." As he speaks Matt thinks he can detect a note of fear in the man's voice, he finds that difficult to understand. He himself can hardly remember a day, except when he'd been laid up in Doc's office, when he hadn't ridden a horse somewhere.
"It'll be alright, c'mon I'll saddle her up for you. Kitty rode her the other day and she was as gentle as a summer breeze through the cottonwoods."
It doesn't take Matt ten minutes to get both horses tacked up. He adjusts the stirrups on Cranbourne's horse and finally convinces him to mount up. Then he gets on the big grey gelding.
"Just follow me, you'll be fine."
Matt tries to follow the animal trail they had used a few days ago. He didn't like riding in the dark, too many hazards, but he hadn't seen any prairie dog holes in these parts and Thomas had told him that snakes were very rare in this country, so the only danger was from the occasional large rock that could be tripped over or walked into so he just had to trust the horse's instinct to alert him to that.
It takes them about thirty minutes to get to the small group of trees that Matt had found the other day. Sure enough Bardee's horsebox is parked there, well hidden from the road. Not being sure if anyone is in it, Matt stops the horses a good way back and tells Cranbourne to dismount. The poor man struggles to maintain his balance once his feet meet the ground. His legs feel as if they have no strength left in them. He watches as Matt gets off his horse with no problem whatsoever and leads the two animals to a small patch of thick undergrowth and ties them there. He removes their saddles and bridles, then turns the animals loose.
The Englishman looks at him curiously. This man seems so at ease around the horses, like he has handled them all his life.
"Why are you letting them go like that?"
"We don't want them making noise once the Donkeys arrive."
Dillon also thought he didn't want the animals left tied there, just incase this did not all go as planned. He figured he could always go find them if they were needed again anyway.
Not much to do now but sit and wait. He goes back to where Cranbourne is sitting on a small rock.
"I'm glad that's over," he says, "You look like you've been doing that all your life."
Dillon thinks to himself 'If only you knew,' but all he says is "I've been around them some."
It's almost an hour before they hear noises that indicate the arrival of the donkeys. They watch as two men jump from the horsebox to greet the new arrivals. Matt can hear their words but cannot understand them. The donkeys are noisy and Matt is glad he turned the horses loose – they would have been whinnying if they were nearby.
"What language are those men speaking?" he asks
"Some form of Arabic, but there are so many dialects, I can't understand much of what they are saying."
They watched in silence as the men worked quickly to unload the animals' packs and place the contraband in the back of the horsebox. They stacked it all towards the front then loaded several bales of hay behind so a casual inspection would not reveal what they were really carrying.
As the vehicle pulls away Cranbourne breathes a sigh of relief,
"They are someone else's problem now, all we have to do is take down these two before they can notice anything's wrong. Shouldn't be too tough."
Matt had had the feeling they were not the only people hiding in the bushes that night. To begin with he said nothing, thinking it was just his imagination, the sounds of this landscape where different to the night noises made by the prairie.
Both smugglers were now riding donkeys. The small size of the animals meant that their feet almost touched the ground. Matt figured it would be an hour or so before they made it back to the Bar D. Come to think of it he hadn't seen Ben Bardee all evening. He was not one of the two men in the horsebox and he was certainly not out there riding a donkey. That worried him too, he liked to be aware of where everyone he was after was located, especially when guns were involved.
After ten minutes he could see that the two donkeys carrying the men began to tire. They would have to switch animals soon.
"Allen, come here. They are going to have to get off of those donkeys soon. When they do we need to take them. They will have their backs towards us for a few seconds and that will give us the opportunity to jump then. Carefully they worked their way forward so they were parallel with the riders. Just like Matt had predicted they dismounted from the animals, the two lawmen moved forward as one and jumped both of them at the same time. Matt was ready for the squirming and kicks from the man after his fight back at the barn, and quickly felled the smuggler with an uppercut to the jaw, putting all the power he could muster behind the punch.
Somehow he looked up in time to see a movement in the bushes about 20 feet away, there was a muzzle pointed in their direction, even in the darkness he could see it thanks to the little glimmer of light coming from the crescent moon. In one movement he puts his hand in his pocket and withdraws the Glock, flipping the safety catch with his thumb as he did so. At the same time he yells at Cranbourne and dives forward to push his friend out of the line of fire. Then everything happens at once. He fires the Glock, and at the same time hears a muted "phut" and feels a tremendous force burning its way into his chest. For an instant he cannot get a breath. The momentum from the bullet lands him squarely on top of the Englishman. Grasping the right side of his chest he manages to roll off of the man and lies on the ground trying to get air in his lungs.
"Hold on Matt," Cranbourne looks at him and drawing his own gun goes to investigate the area where the shot came from. He returns quickly,
"You got him Matt, he's dead. It was Bardee"
Matt lay there holding his side, still having difficulty breathing. He manages to nod his head in acknowledgement.
The men who had been riding the donkeys were still out cold. Cranbourne looks at Matt and then eases back his friend's coat to look at where the bullet hit. They were wearing bulletproof vests, it should be all right, but he sees blood. Pulling the vest and shirt back he sees the bullet had indeed penetrated the protective garment. He takes his phone out and enters a number.
"Man down, I need medical and back up to this location fast."
That is all he says, but he does not end the call, just sets the phone aside on the ground, still transmitting its signal for his backup to follow.
"Allen," Matt manages to say between gasps, "take the ropes from …. the donkeys… Tie those men up… Go."
Cranbourne looks at him, "You saved my life." He seems dazed for a minute now that he realizes exactly what had happened.
"Tie them up, now," Matt repeats, trying to maintain control over the pain and the growing weakness that is invading his body. "Turn the ani….mals loose."
He scrambles to his feet and does as Dillon had told him.
The men give him no trouble even the animals seem to cooperate. He is back by Matt's side in less than ten minutes.
Taking off his own coat he folds it then lifts his friends' head with one hand pushing the coat under to make a pillow with the other.
"Matt, stay with me now, they'll be here soon."
Matt barely hears him but he manages to turn his head towards the man,
"Tell….Kitty…..I….I.." He does not have enough strength to finish the sentence.
He feels darkness closing in around him. Every breath is a struggle against pain and an unwillingness of his lungs to expand. Not like this, he didn't want it to end like this, so far from home, so far from Kitty.
He gathers the last of his strength; he wanted to ask Allen to tell Kitty something for him, but he couldn't remember what he had been trying to say.
He is aware of hands. They are cutting his jacket, doing something to his chest, he groans, that makes the pain worse. Now they are sticking something in his arm. A mask is over his mouth and nose, he thinks at first it is ether, but it has no smell. He wants to push it away, but his arms are too heavy.
He becomes aware of a voice. "Leave the mask, it's just oxygen, it'll help you breath. We're going to move you to a stretcher."
The hands are there again. Pain burns through his right side as he is lifted from the ground. He must have passed out.
He is aware of a regular beating sound, "thup, thup, thup."
He is being moved into a vehicle, he tries to open his eyes, there are small flashing lights all around. The beating sound gets faster, and changes to a high-pitched drone. They are going up – like in that lift at the apartment, but they keep going much further.
Now they are connecting wires to his chest, another wire clipped to his finger. Something is being connected to his arm. Gradually the pain is fading. It is like there is a curtain ahead of him. He can push his way through it if he wants to. Somehow he knows he wants to. He can do it, not much effort.
He finds himself standing on the runway looking at the jet he had flown in earlier. There standing at the steps to the plane is Kitty. She is dressed in those pants she had purchased in London, the ones that set off her figure so well.
He looked around, somewhat confused. She beckons him on again.
"Come on Matt, hurry. For some reason we have been given time."
He does not understand, but slowly walks towards her. She takes his hand and gently pulls him up the steps. There is a red light in the side of the doorframe and it starts to flash.
"Come on now, its okay."
"What are we doing here Kitty, I was…. I can't think."
"You don't need to, just come and sit here, we are about to take off."
He felt the whine of the jets and obediently sat in the seat she indicated. Effortlessly the small jet climbed into the evening sky. They could see the lights on the river below them as the colors of the sunset took over the western horizon.
The pilot was separated from them by a door, but his voice came over the speaker.
"You are free to move around the cabin."
She takes his hand, there is another door at the back of the plane. He had not noticed it last time he was here. She opens it and encourages him to walk through.
There is a bed – just like the one that is in Kitty's room back at the Long Branch. How is that possible?
"What.." somehow he can't form the question he wants to ask.
"They are giving us time Matt, I don't know why. Let's not waste it."
She pulls him to her, at first he resists, not understanding what is happening.
She slides her hands inside his shirt and her fingers feel smooth as they pass over his chest.
"It's alright, relax now, we have time."
Finally she feels the tension disappear from his body and then he takes her in his arms.
"I don't understand this. I was…" again he could not remember.
The warmth of her body against him, soothes his fears. As she unbuttons his shirt he sits on the bed. It even feels like the one back home. Maybe… no he looks out through the small window this is certainly not Kansas of his time. They are high above the city, he can see the river and the city lights below.
He lies back on the bed, pulling her down with him.
Side by side they look at each other.
"Make love to me Matt. I want to feel you make love to me."
Gently he undoes the buttons of her silky blouse and looks at the soft porcelain skin beneath. He reaches behind her to undo that weird contraption trapping her beautiful breasts. She giggles and gently takes his large calloused hand and leads it to her hardened nipples.
At last he believes her. This is real. He kisses her lips and hungrily searches for her tongue. The jet engines whine their way through the air as the light outside continues to fade.
She eases the shirt off from his back and pulls her to him. She can feel his heart beating a frantic rhythm as he reaches down to find that fastener which is keeping him from the rest of her body. His hand explores these newly uncovered areas and she moans as he touches her delicate skin.
"Oh Matt," she breathes in his ear, "I love you so much, don't ever leave me."
He eases up off of her long enough to remove the wrangler jeans she had bought for him, and when he lowers himself down to her again, he feels her hands caressing those cheeks that the garment had been protecting. Her nails are digging into him now. Her need grows stronger, she wants to feel him within her. He was playing it slow. For some reason he had a need to make this moment last, something both of them could remember. Somewhere in the back of his mind there was a fear. The last time, was this the last time? Was that what they were being given? One last time.
Finally he could delay no longer, their combined passion became impossible to contain. No, this could not be the last time. He feels their combined powers erupt before the darkness starts to take him over again.
He lay back exhausted, trying to call her name.
"Kitty I love you."
"Hush now Cowboy, I love you too. I always will." He heard her soft voice and then felt her gentle fingers playing on his lips.
It was all fading away. He tried to hang on. "Don't go." he whispered
The engines droned on, their sound was different now, more like blades chopping the air. They were descending into the darkness again. He could feel it. He needed her there, but it was not her voice that spoke to him this time.
"We'll be landing in a few minutes, don't try to move."
Then even that voice faded.
TBC