“Thanks, Joshua,” Bertha said affectionately as he finished.
“The least I could do,” Joshua responded, blushing.
“There you go again.” Bertha grinned. “You must have too much blood in your body, or something.”
“Hey!” Hickok interrupted, winking at Bertha. “Quit your flirting and check me out, okay, pard?”
“I wasn’t flirting,” Joshua said indignantly. “I never do.”
“You should try it sometime,” Hickok recommended. “It’s good for what ails you.”
“Speaking of which,” Joshua retorted, “let’s check and see what’s ailing you.”
“I can answer that one,” Geronimo interjected from his guard position at the front door. “His problem is a lack of brains.”
Hickok started to speak, but Joshua placed his left hand over the gunman’s mouth. “Be quiet,” he directed. “I can’t do this properly if you keep squirming.”
“I should take advantage of this while I have the chance,” Geronimo remarked.
Joshua’s gentle fingers probed Hickok’s wound above the right eye.
“Quite a nasty gash,” he said, “and you’ve lost some blood, but overall, I’d say you’re in good shape. Just try to avoid any sudden movements.”
“Does that mean he should keep his mouth shut?” Geronimo inquired.
“You can actually feel a draft when those lips of his start to fly.”
Hickok glared at Geronimo.
“And I wouldn’t worry about his injury.” Geronimo threw in another zinger for good measure. “Not if it’s his head. Whatever they hit him with probably broke.”
“That does it,” Hickok declared, pushing Joshua aside and rising to his feet. “I’m not a wimp. I’ll be all right.” He abruptly began swaying and gripped the bar to steady himself.
“I did warn you about sudden movements,” Joshua stated.
Blade, seated at the table, finally entered the conversation. “Nathan, lie down,” he ordered. “Don’t push yourself.”
“Yeah, White Meat.” Bertha smiled up at him. “Snuggle bunnies with me!”
“We must discuss our next move,” Blade advised as Hickok sat on his blanket, “and decide if we head for the Twin Cities in the morning or return to the Home.”
“The Home?” Geronimo repeated.
“Your Home?” Bertha said hopefully.
“Bertha,” Blade thoughtfully addressed her. “You keep telling us the situation in the Twin Cities is very dangerous…”
“You white boys just ain’t got no idea what the Twins is like!” Bertha broke in. “They are sheer murder!”
“…so we need to be at optimum effectiveness when we arrive there,” Blade said, continuing his train of thought. “Which we are not.”
“I can hold my own, pard,” Hickok mentioned. “Don’t worry none about me.”
“I’ve got to think of all of us,” Blade answered. “We must also consider the importance of our mission and the SEAL. I can’t see us going into the Twin Cities with Bertha and you at less than your best.”
“You mean you’re taking me to your Home?” Bertha asked, wonder in her voice.
“I have no choice,” Blade replied gruffly. “Besides, look at all the supplies we’ve taken from the Watchers. The generator is invaluable. We’ll dismantle it, load it and all the rest into the back of the transport, and return to our Home. We’re not that far. We’ll be back by the second day.
Give yourselves a week to mend, and we’ll be heading for the Twin Cities again. What do you think?” he asked them, glancing around the room.
“Do you need to ask?” Bertha beamed. “I want to reach this Home of yours so bad I can taste it!”
“Whatever you think is best,” Geronimo concurred. “You’re the leader.”
“I think we should continue to the Twins,” Hickok protested. “You were hot for the Twin Cities before I was bashed on the noggin. Now you up and change your mind. I get the impression you’re changing your mind because of me, and I won’t stand for it, pard.”
“I admit I want the Healers to examine you,” Blade said, sighing, “but you’re not the only one hurt.” He nodded at Bertha. “What if that arm of hers becomes infected? I just went through such a thing, and it can be real rough. Joshua’s medicine bag doesn’t contain everything we need to treat a severe infection. Do you want to risk her life because of your pride?”
Hickok glanced at Bertha.
“Oh, please, babe!” she pleaded. “I want to see your Home.”
“Well…” Hickok shrugged. “If you put it that way,” he said to Blade.
Blade smiled, pleased with his persuasiveness. He legitimately was concerned about Hickok’s and Bertha’s injuries. The Family could use the confiscated supplies and the generator. It was also true a week or two delay would not adversely affect their mission. But, secretly, he nourished an ulterior motive for wanting to return to the Home. He’d felt uneasy leaving with an unidentified power-monger loose in the Family. Plato’s assurances to the contrary, no one could guarantee this aspiring despot wouldn’t attempt to wrest control of the Family while the Alpha Triad was away. An additional week or two would provide Blade with the time he needed to work on Plato and discover the identity of the traitor.
“If everyone sees the logic,” Blade stated, “we’ll get a good night’s sleep and take off at first light.”
“I certainly have a lot to tell my parents,” Joshua mentioned. “And I can utilize my time in productive worship to reestablish my spiritual equilibrium.”
“How long before dark?” Blade asked Geronimo.
Geronimo gazed at the sun. The blazing orb was perched above the western horizon. “Not long,” he replied. “I’ll take the first watch, if you want.”
“Okay.” Blade pondered a moment. “Before you do, how about going up on the roof again and scanning the countryside? Make sure our sleep won’t be interrupted by unwelcome visitors.”
Geronimo took the stairs two at a stride.
“You think there are more Watchers around?” Hickok asked.
“You told us those two said they were on patrol,” Blade reminded the gunman. “What if other patrols are still out? What if they come back while we’re here?”
“Maybe we should move to another building?” Joshua suggested.
“This one is concrete,” Blade noted. “It’s in the best shape. The walls are thick, and would provide a sturdy defense against snipers. We’ve also got the generator. We’ll remain here.”
“What about that transmitter they mentioned?” Hickok inquired.
“It must be hidden somewhere.” Blade looked around the room. “I’ll spend every spare moment tonight trying to find it.”
“If we can find it,” Hickok reasoned, “we can eavesdrop on the Watchers.”
“What about the rats?” Joshua questioned.
“We’ll take the chance,” Blade answered. “It’s only for one night.”
Hickok eased his body onto his blanket, lying on his back. The cement floor under his blanket was hard and uncomfortable, and intense pain racked his cranium. “I reckon I’m going to nap a spell,” he declared. “This head of mine is acting up.” He grinned at Bertha and closed his eyes.
“Here,” Bertha said. “Use my mattress. It’s softer.” She stood and stepped aside.
“You sure?” Hickok opened his eyes.
“No problem, White Meat.”
“And what are you going to do?” Hickok pushed himself up on his elbows.
“I ain’t tired,” Bertha stated. “I’ll just talk with Blade and Joshua while you get your rest.”