Sky and the Hijackers

Fiction by Frank Knebel

Chapter 5

“Car Five to Hummingbird, Car Five to Hummingbird. Are you receiving us, Sky? Over.”

     Sky Ryder nodded to Copper who picked up the handset.

     “Hummingbird to Car Five. We’re receiving you loud and clear. Is there a problem? Over.”

     Deputy Rivera looked at Deputy Tyler and shrugged.

     “The radio’s working, Harry. What now?”

     Tyler thought for a few moments, frowning all the time.

     “Tell Sky what’s going on and have him wait a minute while you try to raise the office and some of the other cars.”

     “Hummingbird, this is Car Five. We have lost contact with Car Four and are trying to find if it’s our radio or Amy’s. Stand by while I try to reach some of the other units. Wait out.”

     “What do you think’s wrong, Sky?” asked Copper.

     The tall pilot shook his head.

     “There’s no way of telling, Copper. It might be that Amy’s radio or transmitter is out or it might just be some fluke transmission problem in that area. We’ll have to wait while Harry and Andy sort it out.”

     They listened closely as Rivera successfully reached the Sheriff’s office and two other patrol cars. The next call he tried was to Amy and Sue’s Car Four, but there was no answer. Sky took the handset from Copper.

     “Car Five, this is the Hummingbird. Let us try to reach Car Four. Over.”

     “Roger, Sky. Go ahead. Over.”

     Sky and Copper made three attempts to raise Amy’s car but without success. Sky took the microphone again.

     “Car Five, we can’t raise them either. Everything seems normal, but we’re going down to take a look. Wait out.”

     Copper was growing alarmed by the look on Sky’s face and the tone of his voice.

     “Do you think something’s happened, Sky?” she asked.

     “I don’t know. But the convoy’s just about to turn north to go between Hackbart and the Indian reservation. That turn would be a great place for an ambush. Keep a sharp lookout.”

     Copper had a pair of field glasses in her hands, but the plane had descended enough that they were not necessary for watching the road.

     “Look over there, Sky!” Copper cried, pointing to the east. “Two cars coming fast!”

     Sky looked. Two dark sedans were raising considerable dust as they headed at high speed for the road junction the convoy was nearing.

     “Call Harry and warn him,” said Sky. “We’ll have to--- What’s this now?”

     A plane appeared above them and to their right. It was a Cessna also, the newer, sleeker model 310B, headed on a course to cross in front of and very close to the Hummingbird. Sky banked his plane sharply to the left. His maneuver increased the distance between the two planes as the other Cessna passed, but it had still been a fairly close call.

     “Who’s that and what does he think he’s doing?” asked Copper in disbelief.

Laughton chuckled as he banked the 310B to the right and circled back toward the Hummingbird.

     “Do you think we got Ryder’s attention there, Ritchie?”

     The medium sized, strong looking man smiled as he pulled back the bolt of the Browning automatic rifle across his lap.

     “If we didn’t on that pass, we’ll sure get it on the next,” he said.

     The Hummingbird had circled completely to the left and was headed east again. Laughton was headed west on a course that would take him parallel and at the same altitude to the left of Sky’s plane.

     “Get ready,” he told Ritchie.

     Ritchie checked his seat belt and cracked the door open enough to stick the muzzle of his weapon outside.

“At least he’s not coming right at us,” said Copper.

     “A couple hundred yards is pretty close though,” said Sky. “I wonder what he’s up to this time?”

     Copper pointed at the oncoming plane.

     “What’s that sticking out his door?” she asked.

     Sky reached over with his right hand and pushed firmly on the top of Copper’s head, forcing the girl down in her seat.

     “Get down as low as you can!” he yelled.

     Sky ducked and pulled on the yoke. The Bobcat rose sharply. The 310B attempted to copy Sky’s move but it was too late. As the two planes passed, Sky and Copper heard a burst of automatic gunfire over the roar of the engines.

     “He’s shooting at us!” Copper exclaimed as she sat up again. “What can we do, Sky?”

     The flying rancher banked to the right, trying to keep the other aircraft in sight.

     “Not too much,” he said grimly. “That model Cessna’s new. I was thinking about getting one myself. He’s got nearly forty knots of airspeed on us, faster climb, higher ceiling, and some kind of machine gun, probably a BAR. We’re no match for him as we are. Hang on. He’s going to try again.”

     The 310B headed back, trying to keep the Hummingbird on the right to give the passenger/gunner a better shot. Sky climbed again, the 310B matching his move. Sky rolled to the left to put more distance between the planes. The 310B made a wider arc in the same direction, keeping its starboard side to the Bobcat. Sky dived and accelerated, banking to the left and leveling out as he passed under his adversary. There were more bursts of gunfire, but Sky had made it impossible to get a good shot at him.

     “We’re going to have to find some clouds for cover,” said Sky. “I can probably keep him from getting an easy shot at us, but we’ll be too busy to do any good spotting for the convoy.” He reached for the radio handset. “There must be something up or they wouldn’t want to keep us from watching. We’d better let Winch know.”

     Copper was keeping watch behind them.

     “He’s not following,” she noted. “He must have given up.”

     “It’s going to be up to the police on the ground,” said Sky.

     He put in a radio call to Sheriff Winchell.

“He’s getting away. Aren’t we going to follow?” asked Ritchie.

     “No,” replied Laughton. “I’m not a bad pilot, but Ryder flew against the Japs in the War. He knows too many tricks for us to bag him. The important thing is that we keep him from seeing what happens down there.”

     “So what now?”

     “We’ll keep circling for a while just to make sure he doesn’t try to come back.” Laughton looked down. “It looks like things should start happening any time now.”

The leading Sheriff’s car turned left from the main highway onto the unpaved road leading to the north. As the trucks waited for a car to pass, Andy Rivera put his head out the window, straining to look to the east.

     “What is it, Andy?” asked Harry Tyler.

     “I’m not sure,” he replied, craning his neck. “It looks like someone headed this way in a hurry.”

     Tyler’s view was blocked by the vehicles ahead but, just above the canopy of the two and a half ton truck, he could see dust rising.

     The trucks slowly made their turns. By the time the larger one was out of the intersection, two sedans, side by side and blocking both lanes, were coming at the patrol car.

     “I’d better tell Amy to stay with the trucks,” Tyler said as Rivera drew his revolver.

     He had no sooner reached for his handset than Sky’s call came through.

     “Hummingbird to all Sheriff’s units. Be aware that we have been driven back by a light plane armed with an automatic weapon. The plane above the convoy is an unfriendly. I’m calling for the State Police to send out some armed air units. Hummingbird out.”

     “I guess it’s gonna be a busy day,” said Rivera, checking his weapon.

     Tyler pulled the patrol car broadside across both lanes on their side of the crossroads. Both deputies took cover behind it. Across the road, the two cars did the same. The men from the oncoming cars began shooting. Tyler and Rivera held their fire for a moment.

     “How many?” called Tyler.

     Rivera took a quick look and ducked back.

     “I make it four,” he said. “What do they have?”

     A couple more rounds struck the patrol car.

     “Just pistols, I think,” said Tyler. “See if you can get Lieutenant Conway on the horn.”

     He began laying down slow covering fire as Rivera reached in the open driver’s door for the radio handset. The young deputy was quickly back.

     “There are two cars just down the road,” he reported. “They should be here in a couple minutes.”

     He moved to the back of the car and squeezed off a shot at the hijackers.

     “Good,” said Tyler. “They’re the ones who’ll have a busy day now.”

“What do you see?” Laughton asked Ritchie as they circled away from the departing Hummingbird back to the intersection.

     “Our guys are there,” Ritchie replied. “They’re shooting at the Sheriff’s men, but it looks like the State cops are comin’ up behind ‘em.”

     “We’ll wait a while and let those trucks to get a good way up the road before we let ‘em know who we are.”

     Ritchie nodded and checked his rifle.

Merton fired a shot at the deputies. He kept his head above the trunk of the car, looking for another opportunity to shoot. When he detected movement behind the patrol car he aimed and pulled the trigger again, but there was no shot, just a click. He ducked down to reload.

     “You fool!” growled Harding. “Keep your head down when you’re not shooting, and keep track of how many times you’ve fired.”

     “Okay, okay, old man,” said Merton, fumbling to get fresh rounds into the cylinder. “I love gettin’ advice from an old crook like you.”

     “You’ll be lucky to live to be an old crook like me.” He fired again then looked to the east. “Here they come.”

     “I hope that Laughton remembers the plan,” said Merton.

     Harding ignored him.

     “Hey, Coyle!” he shouted to the other car. “You see ‘em comin’?”

     “We see ‘em,” came the reply. “Okay, Pike. Let’s keep ‘em busy.”

     Coyle was a larger version of Ritchie: dark-haired and rugged looking, but well over six feet. His partner was not quite as large, with light hair and the look of a rube. Their car was angled to Merton and Harding’s, something like a letter ‘T’ with the crossbar sloping down from left to right. They had cover from the approaching State Police, and they opened fire immediately. But instead of aiming at the troopers, the outlaws concentrated their fire on the cars.

The two deputies could hear the sound and feel the concussion of slugs hitting the State Police cars. Rivera looked at his partner.

     “What’re they doin’, Harry?”

     Tyler looked over the hood of the car.

     “I don’t know. But they’re not going to stop them shooting that way. Maybe---”

     The roar of aircraft engines overhead cut him off. A Cessna 310B was heading for them. At the last moment, the plane banked and turned to the right and the engine noise seemed to increase. Though he could not hear any shooting, Tyler saw a line of sand being kicked up in their direction.

     “Down, Andy!” was all he had time to yell.

     They both hit the ground. Though the bullets tore up the dirt only a few yards away from them, they were not hit. After the shooting stopped, the plane continued a half-mile or so beyond the intersection then turned back, this time on the State Police side of the battle. The four troopers scrambled out and took what cover they could just before a trail of gunfire raced toward and over the police cars, breaking windshields, tearing hoods and flattening tires.

     “What do we do, Harry?” yelled Rivera, firing a couple hopeless shots at the speeding plane.

     Tyler wiped the back of his hand over his sweating face. The hijackers were getting into their cars. And the plane was making a slow turn for another pass. The deputy wished he knew what to do.

“That oughta slow ’em down!” said Ritchie, putting in a fresh magazine. “Those cars won’t be goin’ anywhere for a while.”

     “Yeah,” said Laughton. “But we’d better wreck that sheriff’s car too. Get ready for another pass. Make sure your belt’s on tight.”

     “What’re you gonna do?”

     “I’m going to lean this baby over so you face almost directly down. You can get a better shot that way.”

     Ritchie nodded and pulled hard on his seat belt. He pushed the large starboard side door open a little wider and poked the rifle muzzle out. Below he could see the two deputies crouched and running away from their car toward an embankment at the corner of the intersection.

     Laughton banked the plane so his left wing was pointed up and the right wing down about forty-five degrees. Ritchie raised his weapon to his shoulder and eased his finger to the trigger guard.

     He was about to fire when there was a terrific thump and the trim little plane rolled violently to the right. Ritchie’s shoulder fell against the door and he lost his hold on the rifle. He had a brief glimpse of it falling as the plane rolled over.

     “What happened?” he yelled as Laughton righted the plane. Before Laughton could answer, Ritchie pointed out the window on the left side. “Look!”

     The Hummingbird was only a few yards to port.

     “Ryder!” yelled Laughton. “He got his wing under ours and turned us over.”

     “Yeah, and I lost the BAR.”

     “Well, that tears it! He’s probably been on the radio to the State Police, and they’ll have planes and helicopters out here after us. Without that gun, we’ve got no chance.”

     He looked down at the two sedans trapped between the police cars.

     “You’re on your own boys!”

“You did it, Sky!” cried Copper. “I wouldn’t have believed you could get that close.”

     “It’s a variation of a trick we used in the War,” said Sky. “I never thought I’d use it in Arizona. Did he lose his machine gun?”

     “He sure did! I saw it fall. And it looks like he’s running away.”

     The 310B drew rapidly ahead of them and turned to the west. Sky followed just long enough to make sure that the 310B was really leaving, then turned back.

     “Aren’t we going after him?” asked Copper.

     Sky shook his head.

     “He’s too fast for us. Besides, there are only a limited number of places he can be going. If you get on the radio to Tim at the Kermit airport and Bernie at Lake Havasu City, we’ll have a good idea where the rest of the gang is.”

     As Copper reached for the handset, Sky pushed the yoke forward.

     “Right now, we have to see what’s happened back here.”

Merton watched in horror as the automatic rifle hit the ground and the 310B turned and fled west. He looked at Harding.

     “What now?” he yelled.

     “Let’s get out of here!” the burly man bellowed.

     The four men fired a few shots each in the direction of the surrounding police then dashed for the doors of their cars. Coyle and Pike made it easily to theirs. The engine roared to life and the car bolted off to the north, the same direction the trucks had gone. Merton and Harding had a greater problem: they had blocked the highway by turning their car across the highway facing south. Merton started the engine and threw the car into reverse. He made a sharp backward arc to the left and stopped to work the shift lever again.

     “Look out!” yelled Harding.

     The car was now facing the two Kermit deputies. One of them was kneeling behind the patrol car, resting his arm on the hood as he took aim at them.

Rivera watched Tyler take slow and deliberate aim at the fleeing vehicle. He feared his partner would be too late.

     “Shoot, Harry!” he yelled.

     As the car attempted to turn right and swing past them, Tyler began shooting. As Rivera watched, metal and glass flew as his shots hit home, two in the car’s grille and radiator, one breaking a headlight, another into the front fender, and finally exploding the vehicle’s left front tire. The car kept moving briefly. The rim of the blown tire supported the car on the paved road, but when the driver attempted to cut across the sandy shoulder to reach the dirt road to the north it stopped dead. Tyler reloaded as he watched the car lurching, trying to move either forward or back. From behind, the State policemen were coming, weapons drawn and calling for the men to surrender. Pistols were thrown from both front windows and the two men slowly got out of the car with hands raised.

     Tyler turned to Rivera. The young man was leaning against the patrol car, appearing slightly sick. He looked dazedly at the .38 special in his right hand.

     “I’ve drawn and fired it a few times,” he said to Tyler, “but that’s the first time I ever shot at anybody who was shooting back.”

     Tyler patted him on the shoulder.

     “You did fine, Andy. Just fine.”

Amy Cole stopped to rest again. A year’s absence from Kermit had not affected Rowlands’ expertise with knots and ropes. She was still bound helplessly to the post. She and her fellow prisoners had heard several cars pull up to Martha Winthrop’s store and occasional voices outside. Twice, when prospective customers had tried the locked front door, Amy, Sue and Martha had done their best to call out to them, but the gags were too effective. Amy wondered what time it was now. The room in which they were imprisoned was less well air-conditioned than the rest of the store, and it was getting rather warm. Her struggles with her bonds made her no cooler, and she could feel the perspiration on her face, shoulders, chest, back and legs.

     “This is all I need!” the young deputy thought. “Being naked, sweaty and all tied up and gagged again is bad enough, but being rescued like this might almost be worse!”

     She thought of Harry Tyler’s grin when he had released her from a similar predicament a year ago. Then there were the looks on the faces of all the other deputies when the details of her rescue had gotten around. Amy had always enjoyed the admiring looks she had gotten from men, but that had been different. And she had needed rescuing several times now. Strangely enough, women had been exclusively or largely involved in her captivity most of the times, though it was evident that men enjoyed seeing her, or at least thinking of her, that way as well.

     “I suppose that an undressed woman who’s tied up is quite a sight to a man,” she thought. “Most men like the sight of undressed women of any kind, and the ropes probably make us look more helpless and appealing.”

     But what, she wondered, was the payoff for this blond woman who had bound them today and was also surely the woman who had supervised the capture of the Irons sisters and Copper a couple days before? Maybe it was the feeling of power, of seeing another woman reduced to complete powerlessness. Maybe the issue of power was also the discomforting difference in the looks from the men as well. Maybe the humiliation at being helpless was the other side of the coin of the enjoyment at men’s admiration and desire.

     And now there was Rowlands again. Though he had been responsible for tying and gagging her several times before, he wasn’t the one who demanded or suggested that she be undressed first, even in today’s events. He had neither been casually cruel to nor forced himself on any of his helpless female prisoners, and had been almost gentlemanly in his efforts to make things a bit easier for them. But Amy thought that she had read the desire in his eyes, and it was clear that she had read correctly. But what did he intend to do about her now that he was back in town? So far, he had just stolen one unwilling kiss, not a very heinous crime. But would there be more? And what was his role in the hijacking of the Irons sisters’ shipments to the University’s archeological sites?

     Somehow, Amy had to get free and warn the Sheriff that she and Sue had been impersonated and that the convoy was in danger!

“Hummingbird to Dr. Fields. This is Hummingbird calling Dr. Fields. Do you read me, Doctor Fields? Over.”

     Dr. Jeanette Fields picked up the handset from the radio on the table.

     “This is Dr. Fields, Sky, if you insist on being so formal and won’t call me Jeanette as an old friend should,” she answered. “And I just know you’re going to be tiresome about this radio talking so I’ll say ‘Over’ every time I’m done. All right? Over.”

     Copper Ryder laughed.

     “She sounds like a feisty old gal.”

     Sky cocked an eyebrow.

     “Feisty, yes. Old no.” He picked up the handset. “All right, Jeanette, you know best. I just wanted you to know that there was a hijack attempt on your supply trucks. Two of the men were caught and two others driven off, but they could be headed in your direction. Over.”

     Dr. Fields was an aristocratic-looking woman in her late thirties: attractively tall and slender in figure with a face and nose to match. She was dressed like a B-movie director’s idea of an archeologist in khaki riding pants with high boots, a roomy white blouse, tastefully unbuttoned to show just a hint of cleavage, and a wide brimmed sun helmet that showed just the right amount of blonde hair. She looked to the south, shading her eyes with a hand in search of any sign of the trucks.

     “I can’t see anything clearly yet, Sky. There is a bit of a dust being raised to the south of us. It could be from the road. Do you have any advice? Over.”

     “The convoy lost part of its escort back here at the junction, but there are still two women deputies with the trucks. Just keep a sharp lookout for two men in a dark blue sedan. Over.”

     “Will you be coming out to camp, Sky? Over.”

     “I’m going to land on the highway here to be sure there aren’t any wounded and to see what we can learn from the men who were caught. If I’m not needed, I’ll be with you shortly. Over.”

     “Very well, Sky. I’ll look forward to seeing you soon. Fields, out.”

     Copper Ryder arched an eyebrow at Sky as he hung up the radio handset.

     “Well, I’m certainly glad I’m not Julie these days,” she said knowingly. “You seem to have quite a supply of attractive old friends who keep turning up.”

     Sky glared affectionately at his niece.

     “And that’s all that Jeanette is,” he said firmly. “She has a very nice husband who also teaches at the university, so get all the romantic intrigue out of your head. And what kind of intrigue could go on in a whole camp full of women? Now hang on while I set us down.”

     Copper tightened her seatbelt as the plane descended.

Melissa Paul looked up from her digging as a County Sheriff’s car led two trucks up the dirt road to the camp.

     “Dr. Fields!” she called. “The trucks are here.”

     Melissa stood up. She was a tall, slightly fleshy girl, with a very pretty, slightly round face that was, despite her wide-brimmed straw hat, attractively freckled from the sun. The slight thickness of her waist was made less obvious because of the large, firm breasts that pressed against her shape-hugging bandeau top with horizontal red stripes. Her bare shoulders were also lightly freckled. She wore cut-off blue jeans that flatteringly displayed her long, shapely legs. On her feet were short, thick-soled brown boots and white mid-calf socks.

     Dr. Fields sat writing at a card table under a large, open white-canopied tent. At Melissa’s call she stood up and walked toward the girl, again putting her hand under the brim of her helmet to give additional shade to her eyes.

     “Any sign of anyone following them?” Dr. Fields called to Melissa.

     The tall girl craned her neck, then turned back shaking her head.

     “Not that I can see.”

     Dr. Fields turned back to the camp.

     “Alice! Stephanie!”

     Two more college girls came out of one of the tents. One was short and dark-haired with a cute, intelligent face dominated by a pair of glasses with large, dark-rimmed frames. She wore the same style spelunker’s boots as Melissa with khaki shorts and a dark green T-shirt. The other girl was between the heights of her two friends. Her light brown hair was bound into a ponytail long enough to fall between her shoulder blades. She also wore hiker’s boots and khaki shorts, but her T-shirt was white. None of the girls were ravishing beauties or cover model types, but they were all bright looking, active and attractive young women.

     “Do you want me to bring up the wheelbarrow, Dr. Fields?” asked the short, dark girl.

     “Yes, you’d better do that, Alice. They won’t be able to get the trucks very close to the supply tent today. And did you bring the empty water jugs down, Stephanie?”

     “Yes, ma’am,” the ponytail girl replied, pointing to six empty glass containers near the trail. “But why are there police with the trucks today?”

     “Just to be certain that they make it safely to us, dear,” said Jeanette patiently. “I’ll tell you all later. The important thing is that they’re here now. So let’s hurry.”

     Alice trotted off in search of the wheelbarrow while Melissa knelt on the double folded towel she had put down to protect her knees by her digging. Dr. Fields and Stephanie walked over to the road to meet the trucks. Karen Irons stepped down from the larger truck carrying a clipboard. Jill got out of the panel truck and immediately opened the side door.

     “Good morning, Dr. Fields,” Karen said with a smile. “I’m glad to say that we made it.”

     “I hear there were some adventures involved this morning,” said Dr. Fields.

     “Adventures?” said Stephanie with wide-eyed interest.

     “We were nearly hijacked by four men with guns,” said Karen.

     Melissa put down her trowel and started over to them. Alice ran the last few steps before dropping the handles of the wheelbarrow.

     “Hijacked?” she cried eagerly.

     “You must tell us all about it when we’ve unloaded everything,” said Dr. Fields.

     “How did you escape them?” asked Stephanie, refusing to wait.

     “Well it was the State Police and the Sheriff’s deputies who protected us,” Karen began. “I really don’t know what we’d have done if it weren’t for---“

     She had turned to introduce Amy and Sue, but stopped abruptly when she saw that the two uniformed women were strangers and had pistols leveled at them.

     “Good morning, ladies,” said the taller of the women. “We’re giving you a little surprise party this morning. Let’s go into that big tent over there.” She looked at Stephanie. “Is there any rope in camp, sweetie?”

     Stephanie was unable to speak for a moment. Finally she gulped and stammered:

     “I think th-there’s some in th-the supply tent.”

     “Wonderful. You and your little friend with the glasses can show my friend Judy where it is, and bring us some.” She waved her pistol at the other women. “The rest of you, in the tent.”

So you’re sure you don’t need us for anything?” Sky asked the two men.

     Lieutenant Conway was tall, trim and distinguished looking, even before he removed his hat to reveal his military-style crewcut gray hair. He looked more like a colonel or a general.

     “No, Sky,” he said, wiping his forehead. “There’s no one wounded here. Both our cars are disabled but there are more on the way, as well as a plane and a helicopter in case our friend the Red Baron comes back.”

     “Our car still runs, Sky,” said Tyler, “but we took a bullet in the radio handset. That’s why we didn’t tell you go look after Amy and Sue and the trucks.”

     “And you still haven’t been able to contact them?” asked Sky.

     Tyler shook his head.

     “I figure her transmitter must be out. I told her to go on with the trucks when we ran into the ambush, so she must have heard.”

     Sky nodded thoughtfully. He looked at Conway.

     “Get anything from those two?” He nodded toward the car with the two prisoners.

     Conway shook his head.

     “They won’t say anything. No names, no reasons, nothing.”

     “All right,” Sky said decisively. “I’ll get back in the air and fly on up to Dr. Fields’ camp to make sure the two that got away don’t try again. I’ve already warned Dr. Fields, so they should be alert. Let me know if you need me.”

     He and Copper headed back for the Hummingbird.

     “Do you think that the problem’s in Amy’s radio?” asked Copper.

     “I don’t know,” said Sky. “Coincidences like that do happen at times.”

     He paused to help her up, adding grimly:

     “But I’ve never liked coincidences.”

The dark blue sedan came slowly along the suggestion of a road leading to the camp and parked behind the trucks. The two men in cheap suits and carrying a large coils of rope got out, turning their heads in all directions as they looked for signs of life.

     “Where do you think they are?” Pike asked the other man.

     Coyle pointed to the six large white canvas tents near the top of a slight rise perhaps a hundred yard from the road. There were several square pits and mounds of sand and dirt a little way from the tents.

     “They must be in the camp,” replied Coyle.

     The two men climbed the gentle slope to the tent area. As they drew closer to the camp, Coyle drew his pistol. Pike noticed and drew his as well. They did not call out. Coyle hand signaled to Pike to look around the area to the right while he started to the left.

     “We’re in here, boys,” Lois called from a nearby tent. “Come on and join the party.”

     Four of the tents were completely open on the sides. One tent appeared to be an office, two more sheltered long tables that held finds and artifacts in various stages of cleaning, labeling and storage, and one appeared to be functioning as kitchen and mess hall. Lois’ voice had come from one of the tents that had all its side panels down. The men cautiously approached the closer of the two. Coyle grabbed the door flap and swept it back.

     This tent was apparently living and sleeping quarters for the women. There were four cots, each with a footlocker at one end, a few high-backed wooden chairs, some metal shelving units, obvious personal items, and articles of clothing littering the groundsheet. Lois and Judy stood near the tent door brandishing their pistols. Melissa in her bandeau top and Dr. Fields, wearing only bra and panties, sat on cots looking anxiously at their captors as Alice and Stephanie, also in bras and panties, bound their hands behind their backs. In a chair on the other side of the tent sat a lingerie-clad Karen Irons being similarly tied by her younger sister Jill.

     “Let’s make it a nice, tight job, ladies,” Judy warned. “Anybody who tries to cheat gets an extra bonus from us.”

     “Being tied up isn’t so bad,” said Lois. “Being tied up naked in the sun wouldn’t be so pleasant.”

     She turned to the two men.

     “Glad you could make it boys. Where are the others?”

     “This is all of us,” said Coyle bitterly. “Ryder got in the way again and the cops got Merton and Harding.”

     “That means we’ll have to change plans a bit,” said Lois. “Well, for right now keep us covered while we assist the ladies.”

     The two men grinned at the sight of so much attractive female flesh on display.

     “With pleasure,” said Pike, licking his lips.

     Lois and Judy took the ropes the men had brought. Lois went to the Irons sisters and Judy strolled behind the college girls and their teacher, both women using pocketknives to cut the ropes into various lengths. When Alice and Stephanie had finished, Judy checked their work on Dr. Fields and Melissa.

     “Nice work, girls,” Lois said cheerfully. She tossed a short piece of rope to Alice and pointed at Stephanie. “Now do her, specs.”

     “Why are you doing all this?” asked Dr. Fields, looking back as Stephanie turned around and presented her crossed wrists to Alice. “You must know that we have hardly any money up here, and there’s very little of value in what we’ve found.”

     “Keep a lid on it, Doc,” said Lois flatly. “We don’t need any help from you and we know all we need to about your little operation here.”

     “Well then, I don’t see what this is all for,” continued Jeanette Fields. “After all, we can’t be any kind threat to---“

     Lois drew a bandanna from her pocket and silenced Dr. Fields by jamming it into the astonished teacher’s mouth. Lois leaned over and pointed a finger into the woman’s face.

     “Now I’m not gonna take the time to tie that gag in your mouth right now, Doc,” she said in a low, menacing voice. “But you’re gonna just let it stay there if you know what’s good for you. And here’s a little sample of what you can expect if you don’t.”

     She slid the shoulder straps of Jeanette’s bra down her arms almost to her elbows, then reached behind her and undid the hooks. The woman mewed in surprise and alarm, but a glare from Lois stopped any protest. The humiliated teacher closed her eyes and groaned very softly as her bra was pulled off her breasts. Her students looked on in horror.

     “Now, ladies,” said Lois looking at the other young women one by one, “I hope we won’t have any more arguing. You won’t be harmed if you cooperate.”

     “Unless you call being asphyxiated being harmed,” said Jill.

     Lois turned to her.

     “What do you mean?” she asked.

     “The last time, when you and your friends had us tied up in that garage, somebody tried to kill us by starting up one of the trucks and leaving it running.”

     Lois and Judy looked at one another in alarm. Karen saw them.

     “You mean you didn’t know?” she asked.

     “Well I didn’t know!” Judy said emphatically. “I’m no killer, and if somebody else in this bunch is, I want out.”

     Lois was eyeing Karen and Jill thoughtfully.

     “I’d say you two are telling the truth,” she said slowly. “Believe me, Judy and I didn’t know and we wouldn’t have gone along if we had known. This is just supposed to be a lesson to you two and the Doc’s party here.”

     She took a short piece of rope and headed for Jill.

     “Hands behind your back, blondie.” She spoke over her shoulder to Judy and the men. “Let’s get them all tied. I want to clear out as fast as possible so I can have a word with someone.”

     She started tying Jill’s hands behind her back. The men stepped forward to help.

Julie Ryder slowed as she drew near Martha Winthrop’s store. She usually did her shopping elsewhere, but the adventures of Copper and the Irons sisters had made her curious about the place. However, when she saw a couple walking away from the front door and waving away another couple in another car that had pulled up, there seemed no point in stopping. There was a closed sign behind the glass front door. Julie looked at the clock on the station wagon’s dashboard. It was after ten o’clock, and very odd for the store not to be open. But since she had some other stops to make, she would try again on the way out of town.

Judy finished tying a knot on the ropes around Alice’s ankles. She straightened up.

     “All finished,” she reported.

     Lois looked at the six captives in the tent. Dr. Jeanette Fields and Melissa sat on one cot and Alice and Stephanie were on the cot next to them. Across the room, the Irons sisters were bound to high-backed wooden chairs. All the women had their hands tied behind their backs, arms bound to their torsos in three or four places and legs tied at the knees and ankles. Judy had crossed the ankles of Alice and Stephanie; all the others had feet side by side. Both Karen and Jill Irons had been secured to the backs and seats of their chairs as well. All of the prisoners were also gagged, mouths stuffed with cloth wads, the wads bound in with cloth strips over their mouths, and lips sealed with wide gray duct tape.

     “Very pretty, ladies,” said Lois coldly.

     “I think they look good enough to eat,” said Coyle with a grin.

     “All right, you two,” snapped Lois. “Get to work. Coyle, you take your car. Pike, you take the big truck. Judy and I’ll be along in a minute.”

     The grinning men paused in the door of the tent.

     “A pleasure, ladies!” said Coyle bowing slightly to the bound women.

     “Nice to meetcha all,” added Pike as they departed.

     Lois took one more look. She noticed that Melissa’s eyes kept returning to Dr. Fields’ bare breasts.

     “See something interesting, honey?” she asked sarcastically.

     Melissa looked up in surprise and confusion. She shook her head ‘no.’

     “Well, I think you’re interested. You’re the only one without a bra, so let’s see what you’ve got there.”

     She stepped over and hooked her index fingers into the hem of Melissa’s tube top. The girl shook her head, frantically this time, and whimpered into her gag. Lois pulled the stretchy fabric down. Melissa closed her eyes and squealed behind the gag packing, her face, neck and upper chest flushing red as her breasts were uncovered. Lois kept pulling until she ran into one of the sets of rope loops around Melissa’s body. The girl looked mournfully at her.

     “I don’t know what you’re so upset about, honey,” she said with a cruel smile. “That’s a pretty nice pair, if you ask me. Come on, Judy.”

     The two women left the tent and headed for the panel truck.

     “That was pretty mean,” said Judy. Why’d you do it?”

     “Couldn’t you see it on her face? She wanted us to do the same thing to her, to be the sexiest damsel in distress. Probably some kind of repressed nice girl. She’ll be famous now.”

     Judy chuckled.

     “Maybe you’re right. What next?”

     “Sooner or later they’ll start looking everywhere for that cop car, so we’ll have to leave it here. Close the cargo door and let’s get started. We’ve got to get this truck to the hiding place.”

     “And then?”

     After closing the double doors on the side, Judy slid into the passenger seat. Lois took the wheel.

     “Then we’ve got to ask Mr. Laughton who’s trying to get us mixed up in murder.”