The Daredevil Snared (The Adventurers Quartet Book 3) (29 page)

CHAPTER 16

First thing the next morning, Caleb, Phillipe, Hillsythe, Dixon, Fanshawe, and Hopkins separately broke the news of their latest plan to the men with whom they usually worked. Although the new plan was initially greeted with grave faces, nevertheless, as the day wore on, that they actually had a plan—one the leaders believed would work and were actively pursuing—sank in, and the atmosphere changed.

The men understood the danger, but they also fully comprehended not just the need to do something but the need to take this particular risk, and one by one, they, each in their own way, committed to the gambit.

Caleb, together with Dixon and the three carpenters, spent the entire day examining the timbers framing the opening to the lower level, then discussing and rejecting various ways to weaken them.

“The critical point,” Caleb repeated, for the third time in different words, “is that we need to be able to set everything in place—have everything ready—without collapsing anything. We’re not going to be able to have multiple attempts—it has to be exactly what we want on the first and only try.”

Dixon threw him a frustrated look, but the engineer didn’t disagree.

With his hands on his hips, Caleb watched and listened as Dixon and the carpenters examined, opined, and argued.

Having to make do with only one lantern didn’t help.

Later, once the four had finally agreed on the most useful timbers to work on, and on a plan of attack, so to speak, Caleb reminded them, “The temporary bracing has to be set up in such a way that preferably one man, or at the most two, can initiate the collapse and still get out of the mine.”

Dixon grimaced, but nodded. He surveyed the section of the framing they’d elected to weaken, then looked at the carpenters. “We’ve identified the timbers we need to work on. Given the lack of light, there’s no sense starting on the work now.” He glanced at Caleb and explained, “It’s going to be exacting and will, as you said, have to be perfect the first time. We won’t get any chance to make corrections, and one unwary slip—one cut too deep—and we could bring it down then and there.”

His jaw set, Caleb nodded. He would have preferred to start active work today, but Dixon was correct. They couldn’t afford to rush, and Dubois was unlikely to send anyone to examine the lower level just yet; they hadn’t yet informed him it was possible to crawl in, and even if they had, while the space was so narrow, none of the mercenaries would be keen to go in, especially as Dubois himself wouldn’t.

In those circumstances and with so much riding on the outcome, rushing would be foolish.

Instead, Caleb asked, “When do you think Cripps will be back with more oil?”

One of the carpenters who’d been a captive almost as long as Dixon replied, “If there’s a rush, Cripps and his crew can make it to the settlement and back in three days. Because Arsene goes for the mining supplies, he and his group usually take five.”

Dixon nodded. “Three days will mean tomorrow.” He met Caleb’s eyes. “I really don’t want to even mark things up without better light, and the way Arsene is rationing the oil, using two or more lanterns at full light down here is going to leave too little for those mining.”

“Let alone if one of Dubois’s boys thinks to stick his head in and sees us here, bathed in light.” Jed grimaced.

Caleb sighed and looked up at the beams, half of which were shadowed. “So our best bet is to hold off until Cripps gets back and we can work under full light.” He was speaking more to himself than the others.

“What we can do, however,” Dixon said, his voice gaining enthusiasm, “is to use the time—the rest of today and tomorrow until whenever Cripps gets here—to work out our strategy for holding off the collapse until initiation, and also how to delay the actual collapse
after
initiation to allow whoever triggers it to escape.”

Caleb nodded. “Good idea. I take it we can do that outside, in the light?”

Dixon replied, “We can draw up plans and work on them.”

He and the carpenters looked up at the beams, clearly fixing the structure in their minds.

Caleb was thinking of what might be achieved with a decent delay after the collapse was triggered. Several enticing thoughts were circling in his brain, along with several long-ago memories. “For the latter project—the delaying of the ultimate collapse—I think we should pick Lascelle’s brain. And Hillsythe’s, too, come to that. They might have experience that’s relevant, not necessarily with collapsing mines but similar situations.”

Dixon—who must have had at least an inkling of Hillsythe’s background—nodded. “Excellent idea.” He waved toward the exit. “Shall we?”

* * *

Caleb found himself cravenly grateful that Dubois’s extended hours for the men, which the mercenary captain insisted on maintaining even in half shifts, meant he could take his turn in the mine late at night, and so avoid having to spend any significant time with Kate.

Even though he’d come to accept that the other men were correct, and that in this instance, sharing their plans with her and the other women wasn’t the best path, he still felt...uncomfortable.

Nevertheless, when he walked out of the mine close to midnight and saw her waiting on the porch of the women’s hut, his feet took him to her without further thought.

She met him with a kiss—sweet, full of promise—but then she drew back. Her hands gripped his forearms as she looked into his face. “I can’t walk tonight—the children are so excited over being included in the plans and making a stockpile of their own that they’re having trouble settling.” She grimaced. “The other women are sleeping, but while the little ones are tossing and turning, my governessly instincts won’t allow me to leave them.”

His reassuring smile was entirely genuine. “Then let’s sit for a little while.” With an elegant flourish, he assisted her back to her stool, then sat on the open porch by her feet. He leaned back against her legs, then felt her hand lightly touch, then stroke over his unruly hair. “Tell me what was decided for the children.”

In a clear, soft voice, she told him of the arrangements she, Hillsythe, and Hopkins had made with the children to create another stockpile of diamond-bearing ore concealed among the piles of discarded rock. “Even with the second tunnel yielding lots of diamonds, courtesy of those mining rock from the end of the first tunnel, there are still many more discards than diamond-bearing clumps. We gave the children a ratio of four to one. Four diamond-bearing rocks into the pile for the cleaning shed and then the next into their special pile. They can all count to four.”

Even though he wasn’t looking at her, he registered her satisfaction as she said, “And as Dubois relies on us women to check over the children’s work, then that special pile will remain where it is—concealed between the true discards and, indeed, covered by them.”

“Hmm.” He leaned back, relishing the feel of her fingers absentmindedly combing through his hair. “And now that Dubois has caused such a large pile of diamond-bearing rocks to be created outside the cleaning shed door, then a few less being put onto that pile isn’t going to be noticeable.”

“With the stockpile in the mine, and now the stockpile by the discards, plus the cache of cleaned stones we’ve started in the cleaning shed...” She halted, then, in barely a whisper, asked, “Will it be enough, do you think?”

He reached up and caught her hand, stood, and turned to face her. He bent over her and looked her in the eye. “I said we’ll manage, and we will.” He managed a cocky grin. “Remember that.
Believe
in that.”

She smiled.

He closed the distance between their lips and kissed her—long, assured, a kiss he ensured brimmed with confidence.

Then he raised his head, pressed her fingers and released them, and stepped back. He smiled. “Now go inside and sleep, and we’ll see what tomorrow brings.”

She chuckled and rose.

He saluted her, watched until she disappeared inside the women’s hut, then turned and strode across the compound.

He didn’t know why it should be so, yet every time he reassured her, he reassured himself.

* * *

What tomorrow brought was Cripps, a renewed supply of oil, a significant amount of dried meat, root vegetables, and flour, a massive amount of extra mining supplies, and a totally unexpected visitor.

“I can’t believe it!” Along with Hopkins, Fanshawe stood glaring across the compound. “It’s bloody Muldoon!”

Hopkins narrowed his eyes on the nattily dressed figure of the naval attaché. “Looks like my sister and Frobisher’s brother were right. Muldoon
is
one of those involved.”

“Interesting,” Hillsythe laconically observed. “I wonder what’s brought him here.”

Dixon snorted. “What I’m looking at is all those extra supplies. It looks like they’ve cleaned out the fort’s commissariat!”

“Either that,” Caleb said, already thinking about what impact having even more supplies would have on their plans and on Dubois’s expectations, “or Muldoon and his cronies have been stockpiling, too, and have decided it’s time to clear out their warehouse.”

His hands on his hips, he stood with the other leaders at the entrance to the mine and watched a long procession of native bearers march into the compound.

Phillipe, standing beside him, poked his arm. When Caleb glanced his way, Phillipe nodded past the side of the mercenaries’ barracks. “Looks like your ladies are going to get us the relevant intelligence.”

Caleb followed Phillipe’s gaze and saw Harriet and Kate strolling along the side of the barracks. They passed the side window, saw the cavalcade, and halted by the front corner of the building. Folding their arms, they surveyed the bevy of men with apparently innocent curiosity.

They were close enough to hear what transpired in front of the barracks.

Dubois emerged and halted on the porch. He gave no sign of noticing the two women; his gaze had fixed on the naval attaché.

“What are you doing here?”

Kate studied the man to whom Dubois had addressed the not-entirely-welcoming question. European, possibly Irish if his dramatic coloring was any guide, the man had black hair and regular, somewhat sharp yet handsome features. Of average height, he was carrying a satchel slung over one shoulder and clutched a bulging traveling bag in his opposite hand. He was vaguely familiar.

“Do you know who he is?” Harriet whispered.

“No, but I think I’ve seen him around the settlement.” Kate watched as the man climbed the porch steps.

He halted before Dubois. “We decided it was time I took the plunge and quit the settlement.” The man turned and, from the vantage point of the porch, surveyed the compound. “This looks much more settled since last I saw it—quite the outpost of civilization.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Dubois returned. “Did something happen?”

“Yes and no.” The man glanced at Dubois. “Nothing for you to worry about, however.” He returned to surveying the scene. “It’s just that with Decker back in port, matters were getting a trifle fraught. And after your news of the anticipated escalation in output, the three of us decided it was time I left and liaised with everyone from here.”

Dubois’s attention had shifted to the small mountain of boxes and timbers the native bearers were unloading in front of the supply hut. “What brought on this sudden generosity?”

The man smiled. “Winton has been stockpiling against the day when the mine went into full production. As we’ve reached that point, we decided the stuff would be safer here than in a tumbledown warehouse.” The man turned to Dubois. “It’s likely Winton will join us shortly. I assume you can adequately accommodate us?”

Dubois snorted. “I’m sure we can string up a hammock for you.” He tipped his head back at the barracks. “In there, with my men.” He looked across the compound at the men gathered about the mine’s entrance. “I really wouldn’t advise that you even contemplate sleeping anywhere else.”

The newcomer grunted. “I see your point.”

Dubois turned back to him. “What about our friend in the governor’s office? Is he likely to turn up here, too?”

“At present, that’s not part of our plan. He’s more secure than Winton or I ever were, and of far more use to us where he is—neither Holbrook nor anyone else will ever suspect him.”

Dubois humphed. “Best come inside, then.”

Kate and Harriet drew back. They walked quickly across Dubois’s window and returned to the cleaning shed.

* * *

Later that evening, they repeated all they’d heard to a fascinated and largely silent audience gathered around the fire pit; as Dubois and Muldoon had spoken relatively quietly, the men hadn’t been able to hear the exchange.

When Kate reached the end of their report, Hillsythe grimly nodded. “So it’s Muldoon, Winton—most likely the nephew, but we’ll know when he gets here—and someone else in the governor’s office.” His eyes narrowed; his voice softened. “Who, I wonder?”

“No guesses?” Caleb asked.

Slowly, Hillsythe shook his head. “Holbrook has a staff of three. I was taken before I had a chance to get to know any of them. From all you’ve told us of your brothers’ exploits, and from what we’ve just heard, it could be any one of the three.” His features hardened. “And any one of the three might have learned the real reason I was sent to Freetown.”

“Never mind that,” Dixon said. “If we’re to concentrate on surviving by stretching out the mining, with all those extra supplies over there, plus all the extra oil Cripps brought in, we’re not going to be able to slow things down by running out of anything.”

“True, but that’s not going to matter. Not anymore.” Caleb arched his brows. “In fact, all those supplies might end up being to our advantage.”

Dixon, Fanshawe, and several other men stared at him. “How, for God’s sake,” Fanshawe asked, “do you imagine that might be?”

Fleetingly, Caleb grinned, but immediately sobered. He went to speak, then realized he couldn’t explain what he’d meant to Dixon and the others without revealing their latest plan—the one the women and children didn’t know about. But he had to say something. “It comes back to what I said earlier. Our first concern has to be to keep Dubois—and now Muldoon, too—from learning of the true state of the rock face in the lower level. We need to ensure that doesn’t happen.”