wolfs final plan was simple. he had not enough men to count on a direct attack. the major work would be performed by the dependable five, of which carroll assured him. the others would be used to create a diversion to cover the actual assault.
there was a slight bend to the highway just before it entered the village. when the procession passed this point, they would see a group of men disperse quickly into the low scrub at the side of the road. this would put them on their guard, they would be apprehensive, watching.
when the procession had entered the village itself and was within the short commercial strip, there would be an explosion back of them. grenades, perhaps some shooting. if wolf's prediction were accurate, this would divert the attention of at least the major portion of guards for long enough.
long enough for the five men in the crowd to do what they had to do—
"this must be timed perfectly," he told the man who was to head the diversionary squad.
"i understand that."
"too soon or too late, either will destroy us. it will take us too long to reach the administrator. he must be exactly opposite the tailor's shop. it must be done right."
"it will be done right."
"if it is not, all the sacrifices are for nothing, you understand that? the consequences will be as bad, or worse, for the village, and we will have accomplished nothing. if the administrator is dead, there will be time for most of the villagers to escape into the hills before the federation can take action against them."
the man left, after wolf had provided him with the weapons his group would need from his cache on the nearby hillside.
the dependable five were instructed in their parts, and then there was nothing to do but wait.
the next morning dawned clear. the air was cool, a slight breeze ruffled the fields around the village. as the sun rose higher in the sky, it glinted sharply from the towers of thanlar.
it had been impossible to keep the entire operation a secret from the villagers. they knew something was to happen, and they knew it concerned the inspection trip of mayne landing to the village. it was not hard to guess what it was.
as the day drew on toward noon, the tension of the people grew. small knots of farmers gathered on the corners, their fields forgotten for the day, talking low.
wolf didn't like it, it was too obvious. the village was primed, ready to explode, and he was afraid the tension would make the guards too alert. they had to be just tense enough to respond to the diversion, not enough so they would be watching everywhere. he was counting on an instinctive, rapid response.
he sat behind the tailor shop, talking to his men with a confidence and calm he did not feel. he spoke as if the success of the mission were a foregone fact, and the escape of the villagers into the hills. but he knew it was tenuous.
perhaps he had planned it too critically. perhaps a simple direct attack would have been better. perhaps, perhaps—
any number of things were possible, he thought. but it was done now. if he had made a mistake, they would know soon.
on the contraband comset behind the tailor shop, wolf had called the mother-ship that hovered just out of detection range. all right, they confirmed, there would be a shuttle in the hills back of the town. did he know the shuttle that had brought him had been lost? no? well, it had. with the whole crew aboard.
that many more, thought wolf. if anybody's keeping a list, i've got a lot to my credit. or damnation. and, bitterly: more friends than enemies.
don't think about it. do your job and get the hell out. if you can.
he spoke to daimya, but on her father's advice did not tell her of his plan to take her along.
"she won't go voluntarily," the old man said frankly. "we will have to pretend we are all going to the hills. after that—" he nodded slowly, "—the problem is yours."
"i will take care of her, joseph," wolf had promised, and the sun-browned farmer had clasped his hand tightly in a mute gesture of hopefulness.
"you understand—a man and his daughter—you understand?"
more than you probably know, joseph.
"yes," he said aloud. "i think i understand."
and then came the word that the administrator's procession was in sight.
wolf looked at his five dependables. he passed each face slowly, as if he had never seen them before. they were young, and old, and middle-aged. they were dark from the hours in the sun, strong from the work that pulled their muscles for the long hours each day. they smiled at him, grimly, nervous, but they were good men.
the faces of freedom, wolf thought. these are the faces and the bodies of freedom.
then it was time.
