They’d missed Adrian several days before. He was sure it was Adrian; the probing of the line had been coldly calculated and carried out professionally. Rex thought, that had to be Adrian. I lost seven men—seven! All in five minutes, and not one sighting of the attackers. Bastards killed four men and ran like hell, and three more were picked off by the sniper to keep pursuit at bay. Classic, professional, perfectly executed. That was Adrian, no doubt about it. Bastard! Frank walked up and reported, “Two scouts missing, probably deserted. We didn’t hear any shooting, no signs of bodies or even a blood trail. Probably just lit out.” Rex yelled at Frank, “YOU IDIOT! Do you really think they deserted? Where to? Why? They’ve been captured, and by now they’re halfway back to Fort Brazos. They’ll tell everything they know, which, I’ll grant you, isn’t much, but every little bit hurts us. Damn them for being stupid. If they come back, bring them to me, but I’m not holding my breath.”
