New Lusitania

[Doc Holliday]

While smaller in number than the more mobile groups liberating other slave camps around Canaria, the posse assembled by John Holliday decided to take one deep in a very rough area of Canaria. There were two ways there, on foot or by drop ship and arriving by drop ship would only sound alarms so the choice was easy.

The team of about 30 camped overnight just out-of-sight of the slavers with two of them sneaking in to monitor the camp and gather information. They would spend part of the next day observing as well, watching the slavers themselves. They noted armament, layout, numbers and so forth. One supply ship came and went during the day and towards nightfall, a Pilgrim slave liner landed. An infra red scan was run to confirm identity.

"An independent Junker slaver," he whispered to his partner, "let's get back."

After spending a few hours that night making a plan, the team got some sleep and attacked the next day.
Before the main charge took place, a few men on foot snuck in and were able to access some small arm's lockers. As the main charge came in, these men snuck into where the slaves were housed just before sun-up.

It was a stroke of genius. The main charged represented nothing more than a group of raiders as they kept attention away from the slave quarters, never stopping and always shooting. As they did, the men who snuck into the slave quarters brought in their captured arms and the slaves themselves fought back.

When it was said and done, the camp was out of business. The slavers themselves were all shot dead accept for the leader of the group. Also killed was the pilot of the liner. One posse member was shot in the thigh but beyond that, all others were fine. Attention now turned to the slaver leader.

"What do we do with him, Boss?" asked one of the men.
"Kill him!" shouted many of the freed slaves, "he killed some of us, others he treated worse than wild animals."
"Well, Boss," continued the man, "they've spoken. With all due respect, I think it should be there call."
The boss then stood up and nodded, "so they have. But, before we do, let us use some Old World Justice for some information."
He then looked to a couple of his men, "Glenn, Fred, get your horses and some rope." They did as instructed. They then hogtied the leader's feet together and his hands as well over his head, the other end of the rope being tied to the saddle horn of each horse. Then, they walked the horses apart just enough to tighten the ropes and subsequently, the leader's arms, legs and subsequent joints. He was in obvious pain as his body just barely hovered off the ground under the pressure.

"Now," asked the posse leader, "I want to know where the rest of your camps are, sizes, staff numbers and flight plans." He actually knew but wanted a confession.
"Figure it out yourself!" bellowed the slaver.
"OK," smirked the posse leader, "I will." He then turned to his two men, "move em' out."
As the horses each took a couple of steps forward, the slaver screamed in pain as his body now was suspended a few feet above the ground, his shoulder, hips, knees and elbows at the brink of dislocation.

"Now," repeated the posse leader, "tell me what I want to know."
The slaver gritted his teeth, trying to endure the pain, groaning and clenching his eyes shut. He finally cracked after a couple of minutes that seemed like an eternity. He told locations, staffing...everything. Finally, the ropes were cut, allowing his body to fall to the ground where he lay writhing in pain.

"Hurts, don't in?" asked the smiling posse leader. The slaver didn't respond.
"What we do with him, Boss? asked one of the men.
The leader thought a moment, "strip him to his briefs and leave him," he instructed as he looked around, "the wild animals out here will get him eventually."

About this time, a single shot was discharged, striking the slaver in the center of the chest...a heart shot. His body stiffened momentarily and then settled on the dirt. A freed woman held out the gun, still pointing at the slaver, the gun shaking in her hand as she cried.
"That bastard raped and killed my daughter," she cried, "he doesn't deserve to live. He doesn't even deserve propoer burial."
Sympathetically, the leader came to her and consoled her, taking the gun, "Let's get out of here...everyone. I'll take you and your people for proper medical and where you can get your lives back."

He then turned to everyone, "Who can fly that liner?"
"I can," one man said, "just say where."
"Port Canaria," instructed the leader, "namely, Canaria Medical but before you do, get that transponder changed to something more friendly."

The freed slaves, posse and all their equipment, horses and capture arms were taken into the ship. As it left, the camp was destroyed by the ship's gun batteries and eventually, they arrived at Port Canaria without further incident.

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[MFE]Med Force One | Tales of Recovery|Med Force Enterprises