By Peter Brandvold
A jail wagon of caged killers capability hell on wheels for Cuno Massey...
Cuno Massey is decided to begin a brand new, peaceable existence. but if he comes throughout a jail wagon less than assault, he can[ t simply journey on. A gang of outlaws is hell-bent on granting 4 hardened convicts an early liberate, and with different lawmen down, the marshal is improperly outnumbered.
Dispensing frontier justice from the barrel of his Colt .45, Cuno does his top to even the percentages and maintain the murderous animals the place they belong[ of their cage.
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Extra info for .45-Caliber Widow Maker (.45 Caliber, Book 5)
Conn, Radio. We are in receipt of all message trafﬁc. ” Edwards’ ears perked up and Miller brieﬂy took his eyes from the scope. A ﬂash message meant the highest priority. It was not something that a ship received very often, let alone in the last few hours before returning to home port. “Radio, Captain,” Edwards said into one of the control room microphones. ” Several seconds passed as the radiomen accessed and opened the message on their computer. The wait seemed like an eternity and Edwards noticed that the whole room had become silent again.
Edwards detected it and suddenly felt annoyed. “In the future you will also inform me when such things happen, Mr. Miller. ” Miller’s smirk evaporated. He hesitated for a moment as if he was about to dispute what was written in the night orders, and then obviously chose to exercise better judgment. “Aye, Captain,” he said simply, then strode over to the chart table in the aft corner of the room to confer with the quartermaster. Department heads were all alike, thought Edwards. They quietly celebrated when one of their rivals had problems, because deep underneath the open display of camaraderie they were all competing with each other.
Lake gazed out at the clouds drifting down to touch the sharp cliffs beyond the blue horizon. A small wave crashed against the sail, washing his face and shirt with a cold salt spray. A dolphin leaped from the wave as if to say “hello” and then fell back into the sea just off Providence’s port amidships. All the memories of the past three years came rushing to the forefront of his thoughts. The conference with ComSubPac probably boded ill for the Providence. He had been in boats long enough to know that.