With flying gravel and a sandy whoosh, Frosty's motorbike cleared the crest of the granite ridge in an airborne glide before skidding to a wobbly stop about a dozen yards down the slope. 

"It's Alice and Darlene with five guys wearing uniforms from the sheriff's department." Belinda took my hand and pulled herself up to the top of the incline. "They are under guard, wearing handcuffs. Did they see me?" She lifted her binoculars to her eyes and scanned the rise at the far end of the trail along the saddleback. 

"No. I could only see you. That rise is blocking our position." 

I shifted my body sideways, scrunched down, and peaked out from the shadowed corner of a wastebasket sized rock outcropping. Eye level to the ground, I felt like one of the little people from Gulliver's Travels as I gazed through a forest of withered brown grass scattered before me. Having lost their struggle to survive in thin soil against the summer's heat, the dead leaves of spring growth swayed in the wind like Tibetan prayer flags. 

"How far behind are they?" 

I glanced upward to check the sun's angle and lifted my field glasses to my eyes. Good; the sun was slightly behind me, no chance for a reflection flash. I steadied my glasses on the distant summit with one hand as I pulled a black and white cowboy bandana from my pocket. 

"Not far, fifteen-hundred-yards at the most, maybe five minutes.” Frosty took the offered bandanna from my hand and wiped the sweat and dust from her face. “Thanks.” 

"What's going on?" the commander whispered as she dropped next to me and observed the western skyline as, one by one, seven riders ambled into view. 

The lead rider raised his arm, halted, and dismounted before lifting a pair of binoculars to his eyes. I froze in place like a spider in the weeds and held my breath as a stinging trickle of sweat dribbled down my forehead into my eyes. 

"Crap!" Sheila hunched down and let gravity slide her body out of sight of the intruders. "Did he see me? What's he doing?" Her face pressed tightly into the rocky incline as she looked at me and blinked. 

I focused on the leader and grunted in surprise as the man's hands fumbled with his midsection and he assumed the familiar posture of relief. I stifled a chuckle as he began to swivel his hips from side to side. We men ain't too far removed from our canine cousins. We love to mark our turf. 

"Yup, he's taking a piss. He's got his pecker in his hands." 

I fine-tuned the focus of the high-quality optics. I lifted my startled head and stared into the faraway face of Fitzwater the County Assessor. “What the fuck? "What the hell is that bastard doing here?" I growled. 

"Who?" Sheila inched upward and looked over the rim of our hill. 

"It's that little prick from town, Pisswater. Now he's wearing a sheriff's uniform," I coughed and spat. "What are your orders, Commander?" 

I unslung my weapon and checked the safety. I noticed Belinda matched my moves as she licked her lips and readied her rifle. 

"We've got to free Alice and Darlene, and we can't risk a shootout. We need to stop them here." Sheila slipped down the embankment and climbed to her feet as the grim-faced, and tightly lipped women of our team gathered around her. The leader scanned the several dozens stunted evergreens which had taken root in the scant soil below the summit. "This is an ideal spot for an ambush; we've got enough cover."

"Better hurry, they're moving again," Belinda warned as she scrambled under her poncho. 

"Quickly! Get undercover and be ready back me up. I'll confront them here after they've cleared the crest." Sheila worked the bolt action on her rifle and loaded the firing chamber with a live round. 

"Boss! Let me stop them." Slinging my rifle over my shoulder, I scooted down on my ass and stood next to Sheila. 

"Why?" the leader frowned. 

"Because Fitzwater is a sexist pig. He won't take you seriously; you're a woman. He might listen to me. Maybe." I took a pack of cigarettes from my breast pocket, tapped out a smoke and lit it with my Bic lighter. 

"You really wanna do that?" My boss's eyes widened in surprise. 

"Hell no! But if you do it, you'll get shot," I shuddered as I took a drag and tried to keep my knees from trembling. 

Martha stepped to the Commander's side and tugged her shirt sleeve. "He's right Sheila, let him do it."  

"All right, we'll cover you." 

Sheila joined Martha in the sheltered position behind a rock outcropping. I unslung my firearm and stepped behind a tangle of bushes, knelt out of sight as I glanced around and waved to my comrades. As if they were shadows in the night, the caped sisters moved like silent mist between the branches and blended, nearly invisible, with the background. 

I took a deep drag from my cigarette and closed my eyes for a moment to collect my thoughts and gather my wits. Confronting a group of lawmen with a drawn weapon? Nope. Not a good idea. I fingered the beads on my Vietnam service necklace, ditched my cigarette and moved my mind to a place with neither past nor future. The eternal now was all about me. 

"Relax, my friend," I whispered as I pushed worry to the center of my thoughts and acknowledged the terror within me. 

Fear is a useful servant, but it is a lousy master. Once I accepted the fact I was scared beyond words, an icy calm stilled the trembling of my hands and mind, and I was no longer a refugee from reason. 

From the far edge of hearing, the sound of approaching hooves tickled the wilderness of silence ringing in my ears. "Okay? What's my plan?" I mused to myself with a shudder. Uncertainty answered. I had no Plan 'B.' Hell, for that matter, I didn't even have a Plan 'A.' 

I crouched and peered between the branches and leaves of the shrubbery in front of me and watched as the party of intruders and their female prisoners meandered into view. Whew, the leader's firearm was slung over his shoulder, and the weapons of the mounted guards were safely secured in leather scabbards. When the man from town came abreast with my concealed position, I stepped out from behind my bush with the barrel of my downward-pointed AR-15 draped over my forearm, held in place by the rifle butt tucked into my armpit. 

The color drained out David Fitzwater's face as his eyes widened in shock and surprise. 

"Does anyone have a match?" I took the unlit cigarette dangling from my lips and held it aloft. "I seem to be out of fuel."

"Stop! I don't think you'll be needing that," Sheila called and stepped out from the rocky shadow and squinted down the barrel of her 30.06 Kimber Mountain Ascent rifle as she aimed at a spot between Fitzwater's eyes.

"Same here!" sang a chorus of sisters as they emerged from concealment and took aim at every uniform in the contingent of men. 

To his credit, the possie's leader froze in place and made no effort to prevent the gun he had started to unsling from dropping to the ground.

"Now, now, that's no way to treat a fine weapon." I slung my long gun over my shoulder and walked forward and retrieved the assault rifle from between the legs of his skittish mount.

I checked the safety, ejected the clip, cleared the chamber and used the sleeve of my jacket to dust the dirt from the gun.

"Much better. I suggest you stow it for safekeeping." I nodded to the empty scabbard at his side.

"Gentlemen, please keep your hands on your saddle horns where we can see them. Thank you very much." With a smile and slight nod, Martha shifted her steady aim from one rider to the next as she made eye contact with each man in the party. 

"Excellent. Let's keep this a friendly meeting, Mister Fitzwater." Sheila relaxed her arms as he slipped his empty firearm into its holster and he rested his hands on the worn cowhide pommel of his seat.

"It is Acting-Sheriff Fitzwater," he snarled and stiffened his body as his knuckles whitened with rage. His lips formed, but did not speak the next word, "Bitch."

"Mind your manners. Play nice." I dropped my smoke and ground the cigarette butt into the soil with my boot. The tension within the circle had reached a new equilibrium. The commander was in charge. 

"To what do we owe the pleasure of your company, Mister Acting-Sheriff?" Sheila smiled. "And why are our friends in handcuffs?" Her face melted into a frown.

"I have a court order." He carefully opened his coat to reveal a folded white sheet of paper protruding from the inside breast pocket of his jacket.

Sheila returned my curious glance with a small tilt of her head. 

"Slowly, if you please, Sheriff," I reached up as he took the paper from his coat and handed the tri-folded document to the Commander. 

Sheila took a step forward. "An order for what?" 

"It's a search warrant for contraband; illegal weapons and explosives," the sheriff explained with an arresting voice as he nervously looked at the array of sisters surrounding his party. 

"It's not signed," Sheila crumpled the document and threw it to the ground.

"Keys please." I extended my open palm upward after my fumbled finger snap made no sound.

"They're my prisoners," Fitzwater's eyes narrowed and his body tensed.

"Not anymore, bail has been paid," the Society's commander took several steps forward and changed her grip on her rifle.

I moved a couple of paces away from his mount and handed Sheila the Court Order. I casually aimed in PissWater's general direction as my chief examined the official-looking certificate.

"Keys please," I repeated and corrected my aim.

The lawman glanced over to the women holding his mounted deputies at gunpoint before he turned to confront Sheila. "They are my prisoners," he repeated in plaintive defiance.

Belinda shrugged and slipped her weapon over her shoulder as she took the reins of Darlene's and Seraina's steeds and led them away from the group of uniformed constables. 

"Hey! Those are my horses!" he sputtered as his face flushed with fury.

"Don't worry about it; I got a set of spares from one of the deputies." Sunlight flashed from the keys as my partner raised them above her head and gave them a musical jiggle. "One size fits all," she laughed.

Freed from her cuffs, Darlene rubbed her wrists and glared in the direction of the furious Marshal as she exchanged a "look" with StarShine's missing mother.

"Let's do it," Seraina muttered as the two freedwomen marched over to Fitzwater and, with no word of warning, yanked the surprised law enforcement officer to the ground with a dusty thud.

Darlene proceeded to pummel him with a flurry of dancing kicks and backhanded slaps as Seraina lined up like an Olympic soccer player taking a game-winning shot and kicked his testicles into next Tuesday.

"This is for strip searching me," Seraina grunted.

"And this if for inviting your friends to watch," Darlene spit in the agonized face of her former jailer as he screamed and rolled into the fetal position and gasped for breath.

"The next time I see you, I will kill you. Do you understand me, little man?" she said as she reached between his thrashing legs and gave his genitals a mighty twist. I cringed in involuntary sympathy, the poor guy was going to be pissing in bloody circles for the next week.

"Settle down; he'll live." Belinda tipped the point of her rifle in the direction of the men trying to control their nervous mounts.

"Enough!" Our leader pulled her distressed and angry companions to her side and wrapped them each in a loving embrace. "You are safe."

My boss huddled in hushed conversation with Seraina and Darlene for several minutes. I could hear their voices but not the words. Sheila's face hardened as she turned, now and then to glower at the fallen sheriff.

"Give me a hand, Sky, get his boots," the commander said as she straddled over the Marshal and unbuckled his trousers and pulled them, along with his canary yellow boxers, to his knees. 

"Maybe you'll think more than once before you violate another woman, but I doubt it," the Society's commander extended her hand and lifted the naked man unsteadily to his feet.

“Keep him covered, Sky. I think perhaps his comrades might be overdressed.” Sheila patted my back and took Seraina's and Darlene’s hands in hers and, as a Prussian Army Officer, marched over to join Martha and Belinda.

“Which of you is ranking deputy?” Sheila asked as she crossed her arms and surveyed the four mounted riders under the Sisterhood’s detention. As she spoke, her eyes narrowed in anger as she looked directly at the profusely sweating middle-aged wearing the twin silver bars of a Captain. 

The man, who had been riding shotgun a few paces behind the Marshal, squirmed nervously atop his dappled gray mare, as his fearful eyes darted quickly from the Commander and the rifles aimed in his direction to his three companions. I noticed his fellow officers averted their eyes and did not respond to his silent plea for help. 

Sheila hugged Seraina and Darlene to her side.“Were any of these men present during the Sheriff’s strip-search?”

“Yes, and that fucking pig put his fingers up my ass,” my lover from the snake cave hissed between clenched teeth as she pointed to the trembling Captain. 

The Frost Queen returned Sheila’s nod, slung her rifle across her shoulder and walked to the side of the cringing Captain.

“Don’t hurt me, I'll get down,” he said as he started to dismount.

“Allow me to help, ”Frosty grabbed his belt with both hands and with a powerful yank sent him crashing, ass first, to the rocky ground.

“Get up; you’re not hurt. Cover me Sky,” Belinda extended her hand and helped the fearful officer unsteadily to his feet.

“What did you do to her?” Sheila stepped forward with her rifle in her hands. The commander’s face was an unreadable mask of anger.

Droplets of fear condensed on his forehead like the morning dew and dribbled into his blinking eyes and down his nose as an expanding stain of piss darkened the crotch of his khaki-tan trousers.

“Please,” he moaned in despair as he fought to stem the stream of steaming urine from running down his quivering legs, “I didn’t do anything.”

“He put his fingers inside of me. Those two men bent me over a desk and held my arms while that man spread my legs and held them apart so that Captain Chubby Cheeks could put his filthy fingers into my rectum and play with my asshole,” Seraina said with a disgusted shiver of angry contempt.

“He, they, did the same to me,” Darlene’s eyes narrowed in loathing. 

“Dismount,” Mattha ordered the other three deputies to the ground with a wave of her weapon.

Brenda gathered the reins and tied the riderless horses to the gnarled lower branches of a nearby evergreen, and joined with Belinda as she instructed the trio of men and their terrified Captain to help Fitzwater to his feet. 

“Strip!” The chief's eyes blazed with anger as her jaw tightened.

The assembly of men before the Society’s leader exchanged worried glances with each other.

“Now!” she paused. “Get naked!”Sheila ordered as she raised her weapon and fired over the heads of the startled men. Like dying thunder, the echoing crack of her rifle shot repeated itself and faded to silence in the thin mountain air.

Fear is a great motivating force, and within a minute the four men were naked as two-tone newborns. The darkly tanned faces, forearms, and hands of the involuntary nudists contrasted sharply with their pale white bellies.

“Don’t be shy, keep your hands at your side, we’re not playing hide and seek,” the Society’s leader ordered.

“Keep them covered, I’ll be right back,” Sheila disappeared into the bushes where we had hidden our motorized bikes. A minute or two later she reemerged from the shroud of foliage with a four-ounce tube of industrial strength Super Glue in her grip.

“Captain, please stand next to the Sheriff,” the commander ordered with a wave of her rifle.

“Good. Now give me your right hand, palm up,” she unscrewed the tube’s cap and applied a generous amount of the instant adhesive to the palm of the man’s shivering hand. Wrap your fingers around Mister Fitzwater’s penis and hold him as tight as you can.”

The Sheriff grimaced and moaned in pain as the tearful Captain tightly squeezed his boss’s shriveled shaft.

“Okay, you’re next. Let me see your hand,” Sheila smeared glue on the palm of one of the younger deputies and ordered him to take hold of the Captain’s flaccid prick. 

She repeated the process until each man’s hand was welded to the genitals of the next man, giving a new meaning to the phrase, ‘Chain-of-command.’

“Oh, look! They are bonding,” Belinda laughed as the Captain’s cock slowly stiffened in the grip of his companion.

The chief shaded her eyes with her hand and checked the sun’s position in the sky, “Sherrif, you and your men are free to go. If you hurry, you might make it home before sundown.” 

To the laughter and chuckles of the sisters, the lawmen shuffled toward the crest of the ridge like a naked centipede and began their journey home.

"I'll be back," the Sheriff turned and muttered as his threatening growl ended in a whimpering groan.

Despite myself, I smiled. It was the worst Arnold Schwarzenegger impression I have yet heard. 

"We'll keep a light in the window for you," Sheila's sunshine smile was as cold as ice. "Not," she cleared her throat and spat on the ground.