2026-08-06 22:06:29
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Chapter 194: Lower George
"Two minutes until noon," Camila whispered, lying flat on her stomach beside Asher as she adjusted the iron sights on her rifle. "Are the heavy chains locked across the ties?" "Garrett and his men wrapped four links around the switch rail two hundred yards ahead," Asher said, keeping his eyes locked on the blind curve at the south mouth of the canyon. "The engine will hit the drag line before the engineer sees the blockage." Down on the gravel bed near the bend, Kaelen waved his arm once from behind a stack of rotting timber ties before ducking low into the brush. Beside him, Michael stayed pressed flat against the dirt bank, holding a small brass signal whistle in his fist. "Kaelen is in position," Asher said softly. "Remember, we aim for the cab windows and the coupling pins. Do not hit the boiler." "If we puncture that steam drum, the whole canyon turns into a scalding oven," Camila replied, resting her cheek against the wooden stock. "I will take the engineer on the righ
Chapter 193: The signal
Asher stood on the wooden porch of the central pump office. He watched the bright morning sun reflect off the silver fuel tanks below. Across the gravel yard, Garrett and his three men were busy locking the captured Syndicate guards inside a concrete storage shed near the western wall. “The main diesel valves are open and the hose lines are clear,” Camila said. She walked up the wooden steps with a grease rag in her hand. “We have enough fuel in those tanks to run ten heavy trucks for six months.” “What about the scout cars parked by the rack?” Asher asked. He holstered his heavy revolver. “Two of them are gassed up and ready to roll,” Camila replied. “The third one has a cracked radiator, so we will strip it for spare parts.” Kaelen stepped out of the office door. He held a stack of folded paper maps while Michael walked right beside him. “We found the regional sector books inside the commander’s desk, Asher. Every Syndicate outpost between here and the southern river is ma
Chapter 192: Iron convoy
Asher stood on the running board of the lead transport truck, scanning the dirt road through a set of black field binoculars he had taken from the cab. Down in the valley floor, three miles past the ridge line, a Syndicate fuel depot sat guarded by low concrete walls and a single timber watchtower. "They have not doubled the guard yet," Asher said, stepping down into the loose gravel beside the truck's heavy front bumper. "The gate is wide open and the patrol cars are lined up at the pump rack." "They still think the ridge unit is holding the pass," Camila said, hopping out of the driver side with her rifle slung low across her hip. "We have the sun behind us. We can roll straight down the access lane before they recognize these vehicles." Kaelen jogged up from the secondary transport, carrying a wooden crate of rifle ammunition under his arm. "Garrett's three men are locked into the back of the heavy truck. They are ready to handle the side doors." "How is Michael holding u
Chapter 191: The upper ridge
Asher crouched in the wet ditch at the base of the dirt incline. Cold mud soaked through the knees of his trousers. Beside him, Camila kept her rifle low against her shoulder. Her eyes stayed fixed on the two black Syndicate transport trucks parked side by side across the narrow mountain pass. “They are unspooling a tripod gun,” Camila whispered. She pointed toward three guards carrying a heavy steel weapon assembly from the back tailgate. “If they bolt that iron down, we will not get past this bend.” “Garrett and Kaelen are in position above the high bank,” Asher said. He checked the hammer on his revolver. “When Kaelen drops the flare, we hit the driver side.” “Is the road behind them open?” Camila asked. She slid a spare cartridge into her rifle chamber. “The ridge drops straight off on the right,” Asher replied softly. “They have nowhere to turn those heavy trucks around if we block the front.” Up on the rocky ledge overlooking the road, a dry pine branch snapped sharp
Chapter 190 The iron tavern
Asher pushed open the heavy oak door of the tavern. He stepped inside as the scent of roasting meat and stale beer filled his lungs. The low room was packed with rough men and women sitting around battered pine tables. Their voices rumbled over the sound of a crackling stone hearth. “Keep your hand near your belt,” Camila whispered. She stepped in right behind him while her eyes swept the crowded floor. “Half these folks look like they fled a Syndicate labor camp yesterday.” “Which means they know how to handle a rifle,” Kaelen said softly. He held Michael by the hand as they moved toward an empty wooden booth in the back corner. “Sit near the wall, Michael,” Asher said. He pointed to the dark wooden bench. “Keep your eyes on the front entrance.” “I am watching the door, Asher,” Michael said. He slid deep into the corner shadow. “Are we buying food here?” “We get food and we get answers,” Asher replied. He slid onto the opposite bench while Camila sat beside him. A thick
Chapter 189: Southern reach
The old trawler cut through the gray morning mist. Its diesel engine chugged in a steady, low thrum. Dense fog rested heavy on the black ocean water. It hid the coastline from view, but the smell of damp earth told Asher the land was getting closer. “The wind is shifting south,” Camila said. She leaned against the wooden railing on the upper deck. She kept her rifle rested over her arm, her eyes scanning the fog. “We have been on this water for four hours.” Asher walked up beside her. His coat collar was pulled tight against the freezing spray. “The captain says the southern bay is two miles out. We hit land before the sun breaks the clouds.” “What is at the southern bay?” Kaelen asked. He stepped out from the small steering cabin with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “Is it another Syndicate town?” “No,” Asher said. He turned to face him. “It is an open trading post called Iron Dock. No Director, no garrison, just smugglers, fishermen, and runaway labor.” “Sounds like ou
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