Gray Panthers Captain Short Blade Read Free

transport. While the tailor tore into the magazines, Short Blade helped carry the remaining bolts, figuring that he was making seventy-five percent profit on each bolt.
    “I’ll even ride part way into town with you to help you protect your new treasure,” Short Blade offered as he slammed the back gate of the transport closed. He climbed into the carriage next to the tailor and the assistant started to drive.
    As they entered a rough part of town, Short Blade noticed that the roads had not been improved in the area, and there were many beggars on the corners and near the alleys. “This will be good for me,” he said, motioning for the driver to pull over. As the transport stopped and Short Blade jumped out, a tailgater almost hit them.
    “You there!” Short Blade called out as he waved to a beggar he had seen on previous trips. The old Jacka only had a single pair of arms left, but he remained proud for having once been a warrior. “Knife, I forgot, what rank were you when you had to leave the service?”
    The beggar puffed out his chest as he began to speak, happy to talk about his service. “I was a senior sergeant in the infantry–”
    Short Blade cut him off. “That’s what I thought. I want you to meet me at the city shuttle lot at ten o’clock. Bring twenty warriors you can trust. I’ll have a contract for you. Can you find twenty good warriors? I own a large farm and am having trouble with thieves. You and your team will be armed and living in the field. Is that a problem?”
    The old Jacka straightened his back, feeling once again like the warrior he had been. “I only have two arms, sir–”
    Short Blade interrupted him again. “You have years of experience. I want you for your mind and your mouth. You will be in charge. Tell me now if you think you can’t do it.”
    “I will not disappoint you, sir. I’ll get the best troops I can find.”
    “Sergeant, here’s a bonus for taking care of this for me,” Short Blade said, handing the old Jacka a small gold coin. “This is for your experience and knowledge. You alone will get a bonus like this.”
    The sergeant saluted, pocketed the coin, and set out to find twenty warriors.
    Short Blade walked along the street, glad to have a few moments when he didn’t have to deal with any problems. The growth of the city seemed to be out of control. To the east of town he could see new homes being built with the new materials instead of in the traditional ways. Uneasily he realized that he was looking out on behalf of Dan Daniels, even if he hadn’t been tasked to.
    The cowboy boots were starting to make his paws sore, and he decided that he’d done enough walking. He thought about hailing a cart so he could just enjoy the ride back and try not to find anything else to worry about.
    The huge Jacka came out of the shadows, followed by ten more, all dressed in the black clothing of criminals. “Short Blade, you humiliated my cousin when he tried to collect the coins at the lot. His humiliation is mine. I am not bound by any law, as I am a criminal. First, you will lose your coins. Then, I will spill your blood.”
    “Are you too cowardly to take on a mere runt all by yourself?” Short Blade countered. “You bring an army of Jacka trash to ensure the job gets done, since you are a runt in spirit. Am I to fight you all at once, or one at a time?”
    Short Blade noticed some movement behind the criminals and knew the situation had just changed. “I’ll tell you what I will do. Those of you who slink out through the gate now won’t be hurt. Even as we speak my army is behind you, and I will not stop them from attacking you. You have ONE MINUTE!”
    The criminal laughed as his cronies glanced behind them and a few bolted for the gate.
    Short Blade grinned, showing his full teeth, and glared at his antagonist. “Just you and me. Come on, runt. Take my bag of coins away from me or run like a dog out that gate. I have no more time for you, coward!”
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