The Hellfire Rebellion (TimeWars 10) - Page 22

“Reese Hunter seems like a good man.” Adams said. “Macintosh speaks highly of him. But then Mac speaks highly of anyone who will stand him to a drink. We have learned, most tragically, that there exists a group among the Tories who will stop at nothing to oppose us, not even murder. If we send men to spy upon them, then they can just as easily send men to spy on us. I. too, have learned how to be cautious, Ben.”

They had gone about eight blocks when Delaney said. “We’re being followed.”

“I know,” said Hunter. “It’s Revere. I spotted him about two blocks ago. Adams must’ve sent him after us.”

“Not a very trusting sort, is he?” Lucas said, smiling to himself.

That man was born too late,” said Hunter. “He would have made one hell of an intelligence chief.”

“Do we shake him?” Andre asked.

“No, what for?” Delaney said. “Let him report hack to Adams that we’re doing exactly what we said we’d do.”

“This is as far as I’d better go.” said Hunter. “The Peacock Tavern is around the corner, at the end of the street. They should be serving the ordinary about now, so there’ll be plenty of people there, especially after what happened this morning.” He paused. “What’ll you do if you run into Drakov? He knows you.”

“Well, we don’t know for sure he’s here yet.” Lucas said. “But if we should happen to run into him, we’ll try to take him alive.”

“Knowing Drakov, that’s not going to be easy. Especially if he’s got friends among the Tories.” Hunter said.

“I know.” said Lucas “But we have to try to find out how many clones of himself he’s made and where he’s planted them. We won’t take any chances, though. We can’t afford having him cause a temporal disruption.”

“Meaning you’ll kill him if you have to,” Hunter said.

“Only if we have to,” Lucas said. “In which case, we may have to clock out in a hurry, so be where we can find you.”

Hunter nodded. “I’ll be at my place. Either way, you’ll be getting back to me tonight?”

“Soon as we get a chance,” said Lucas “In the meantime, we’d better see about renting a place of our own somewhere in town. It wouldn’t do for three Tories from New York to be seen associating with a Son of Liberty.”

“You can probably get rooms upstairs at the tavern.” said Hunter, “but its liable to be a little noisy. If you want something more private, ask around. A lot of the merchants usually have property to rent around the waterfront. Don’t be afraid to dicker price. it’s expected.”

“Thanks.”

“Good luck. And watch yourselves, okay? You’re my only ticket out of here.”

The tavern was crowded, as Hunter had predicted. They had to wait a while for a table to be free, so they went up to the bar. There was no sign of Drakov, but they kept their eyes on the door, just in case. They each had a brace of loaded dueling pistols hidden underneath their coats and small lasers tucked away in well-concealed shoulder holsters underneath their shirts. Wearing them that way meant they wouldn’t be able to get at them very quickly, but it was a necessary tradeoff for optimum concealment. Ordnance Section had experimented with disguising the laser pistols as more primitive weapons, but none of those experiments had proved terribly successful in terms of being able to wear the weapons hidden. And the plasma weapons were simply too large for any such attempt to be practical. The smallest one was about the size of a 10 mm. semiautomatic with a slightly longer barrel. On covert field

missions, it was generally standard practice not to carry them unless absolutely necessary. For added safety, each weapon was failsafed so that if the safety catch wasn’t properly released, the weapon would self-destruct. The lasers would simply fuse and become useless lumps of molten nysteel. Anyone holding the weapon when the failsafe mechanism became activated would have a very brief instant of warning as the weapon suddenly started to become extremely hot. If that warning was not heeded and the weapon wasn’t immediately dropped, the result would be excruciatingly painful and permanently disabling.

Many temporal agents simply resorted to more primitive, but in proper hands, no less effective tools, such as various martial arts weapons or lead projectile pistols. Steiger, who was a weapons collector, often went armed with a semiautomatic pistol or two. Others carried tiny, flat, plastic dart guns known as ‘stingers.” small enough to be concealed in the palm of the hand and loaded with slim magazines that held miniature needle darts loaded with powerful tranquilizer drugs or instantaneously lethal poisons. These weapons were almost completely silent in operation, making only a brief, very high-pitched whistling noise when fired. Each of the agents were armed with one of these, snapped butt down into spring-loaded holsters strapped to their forearms and hidden underneath their sleeves. Each of them also carried a slim commando knife in a sheath strapped either to the forearm or carried down the back. None of them carried any weapons in their pockets, the better to avoid the possibility of a skilled pickpocket coming away with an unexpected prize.

Fortunately, the clothing of this period was loose and somewhat bulky, which helped to hide the weapons, but they still only planned to use them as a last resort. If there was a need for any shooting to be done, especially with witnesses about, they would first reach for the dueling pistols, which to all outward appearances, looked no different from any other flintlock pistol of the time. In fact, they had been constructed in the 27th century of superior materials and cleverly designed so that they could be loaded with powder and ball and fired like any other flintlock or a strip of metal in front of the trigger guard could be pushed forward and a narrow, spring-loaded magazine could be inserted, turning the dueling pistol into a semiautomatic that fired specially designed. high-velocity ball ammo. The hammer for the semiautomatic function was machined into the flintlock hammer, so that there were actually two hammers, side by side, with the hammer for the semiauto designed to strike a hidden transfer bar that relayed the impact to the primer. The barrel of the dueling pistol was in reality an ingeniously camouflaged slide and extractor, with the actual barrel concealed inside. Only a close examination would reveal that the pistols were much more than they appeared to be.

While they were waiting for a table to be free. Lucas, Finn, and Andre ordered ale at the bar and took careful stock of their surroundings. Not surprisingly, most of the conversation centered around the four men who had been found hanging front the Liberty Tree.

“If you ask me, they got what they damn well deserved,” one man sitting at a table close to them was saying to his friends. “It’s time those Sons of Violence were treated to a taste of their own medicine!”

“I’m sorry. John. I don’t agree. I say no good will come of it.” said one of his companions. “Say what you will about the Sons of Liberty. they are hooligans and skulkers, to be sure, but they have never murdered anyone.”

“They might just as well have killed Ben Hallowell.” the man named John said. “They split his skull for him! It’s only by the grace of God he was not killed! And how many people have they stoned? A thrown rock can kill as surely as a musket ball! I tell you, it is only by pure chance that they have killed no one as yet. Perhaps now they will think twice before they attack a loyal subject of the king!”

“And perhaps now that four of them were slain, they will not hesitate to take a Tory life,” the second man said. “Where does it stop, John? Already it is no longer safe to walk the streets at night.” And who is to blame for that?” asked John. “The Sons of Lawlessness, that’s who! What is Boston coming to? Our officials are afraid to enforce the laws: the governor is helpless; the sheriff hides his face; the watchmen hide whenever they hear a group of men approaching, if they are not themselves part of the mob: the militia cannot be counted on, for the radicals control them; and unlike New York, we have no British troops who can keep order. Are we merely to sit idle and do nothing while Boston is reduced to anarchy? Something must be done! I, for one, am not ashamed to say that I applaud whoever was responsible for hanging those four men! They got no less than what was coming to them! Hellfire to the Sons of Liberty. I say! Hellfire and damnation to them all!”

“Hear. hear!” said several other men at nearby tables.

“Is that your answer then” said John’s friend. “That we take the law into our own hands? If we do that, then we are no better than the radical scum who call themselves the Sons of Liberty. “

“So what would you have us do, Carruthers?” John said. “Give in to the rioters?”

Tags: Simon Hawke TimeWars Science Fiction
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