CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Amelia didn't like it. Not at all.
The contract, which should rightly have fallen into Gray Falcon's possession, was still in Calhoun's room. Frowning, she watched as her husband stood up and was even now following Calhoun to his quarters. Didn't Gray Falcon realize he was treading into enemy territory, taking only Strikes Fast with him? Of course, David Mitchell was trailing along with them, but he would be no good in a fight. He would obviously side with Calhoun, a man of his own race.
Why hadn't Gray Falcon asked another few of the Blackfoot warriors to come along with them?
She didn't know, but for now she kept her peace. Indeed, she wasn't even certain the men realized she was trailing along behind them.
Their path was toward the back of the fort because this was where most of the living quarters were situated. It was dark, it being close to three o'clock in the morning. But, the game wasn't really over until the contract had been found and given to Gray Falcon.
At last, the men came to a room which Calhoun claimed to be his. Turning toward Mitchell, Gray Falcon asked, "Is this man speaking the truth? Is this Maká'pato'si's room?"
Mitchell didn't answer.
It was a trick. This was obviously not the man's room.
Then, unexpectedly, Amelia heard the word "Now!" spoken in the mind-to-mind speak.
Acting in unison, Strikes Fast grabbed Mitchell from behind while Gray Falcon pushed Calhoun to the ground, his foot coming down upon the man's back as he grabbed Calhoun's hands and tied them behind his back.
He said, "You, evil one, lost this contract in a fair game. I am disappointed in you, Superintendent, that you would deal in lies and deceit rather than in justice. Now, since neither of you seem to be in any hurry to produce the contract, we will take you to the Pikuni encampment where our chiefs will be happy to deal out justice to you both."
"No!" Maká'pato'si's voice squeaked. "I'll give you the contract; just let me up."
Gray Falcon lifted the man easily, as though the evil one weighed no more than a rather skinny deer. Although he set him on his feet, he didn't free his hands.
"You have one more chance to get the contract, but only one. I would advise you to think carefully about this."
"If he won't take you to it, I will," Mitchell sang out.
"Soka'pii, perhaps your mind is thinking clearly at last. We shall see. Where is this man's room?"
Amelia didn't step forward to intervene between the men since it appeared Gray Falcon had the matter well in hand. But, she stepped out of the shadows when the evil one led the way to another room farther down the shadowy hallway.
Amelia's stomach turned over. Her senses screamed at her, warning her all was not right. But, what exactly wasn't right?
She might have spoken up and said something, but at the same moment, Gray Falcon turned to Mitchell and said, "The truth now. Is this where this man is lodged?"
Mitchell nodded.
Opening the door, all four men stepped inside. The room was dark and smelled of sweat, liquor and dirty clothing, but there was light seeping into the room from the full moon outside. At least, it lit the room well enough to distinguish objects: a bed, a chest of drawers. Mitchell stepped forward to light a single candle.
It was quiet, too quiet, until Gray Falcon asked, "Where is the contract?"
"There, inside that case on the floor." Calhoun pointed toward a large leather bag. Gray Falcon didn't hesitate to take the few steps to the bag. He picked it up and was about to open it when every one of Amelia's senses came alert.
"No!" she called out. "Don't open up the bag! Release Calhoun and have him open it, not you! I swear to you, something is wrong!"
Gray Falcon turned, reached out and pulled Maká'pato'si forward, untying his hands. "You!" he ordered. "Open your bag."
"Why should I? If you want the contract, open it yourself!" The man's words were little more than a sneering sound.
Gray Falcon reached out a toe to the bag and turned it over, it coming open upon contact. Slowly, Gray Falcon crept up to the bag.
"My husband, no!"
Suddenly a rattling sound hissed through the air, and then a slithery thing, coiled from within the bag, rose up out of it, and, opening its mouth, shot forward toward Gray Falcon. But, its aim was off, and Gray Falcon instinctively reacted, jumping back. In response, he shot a fiery streak of lightning into the thing…a rattlesnake.
