Chapter 10 – The Mission

August 1865

Boathouse Ferry, Mississippi River

Peyton killed Johnny Stacks. He watched the body cease to move on the ground. His slimy yet unblinkingly loyal brother was dead. Now all there was left, besides his enemies, was the last orphan outlaw...Charlie Slater. Peyton knew this journey would inevitably lead him back to Charlie, as would any path he took in life. No matter how much he fought against it. It seemed that Peyton's fate would be to bury each of his three sibling orphans he had once led. The three that helped him garner a legendary outlaw status across the entire country.

The giant Iroquois reached for his hatchet, but before he could rise up to throw it, two U.S. Marshals walked into the casino. They immediately apprehended Peyton, Kid Colt, Marshall, and Ira; neglecting to see the giant Iroquois, a fugitive in his own right, and brought them into their office atop the steamboat on the highest floor, next to the bridge.

"I am Marshal Henry Wade and this is my partner Marshal Peter Cass."

Peyton kept his head down, and slid down in his seat, putting the attention on Ira and Kid Colt. Marshall sat on the other side with an equally solemn look on his face. Kid Colt mimicked Blackheart Quade, keeping his hat tilted over his eyes and his head down.

Ira put it plainly, "What's the problem, marshals?"

Trying to ignore the fact that one of his party had just murdered someone.

"Sergeant Davis, Do you know that you're keeping company with federal fugitives?"

"Federal?"

"We've been asked to bring you in."

"By who?"

"It does not matter who."

"Bring us in for what?" asked Kid Colt as he crossed his arms.

"Sergeant Ira Davis, did you just discharge from the US Army?"

"Yes, sir" admitted Ira.

"And what was the last thing you logged?"

"I said my plans were to head for Dodge."

"That is your mission."

"I don't understand," butted in Marshall, no longer scared of getting thrown in jail, "what does this have to do with all of us?"

"We need you three to go to Fort Dodge, along with Sergeant Davis, and an issue of infantrymen. Enough to supply the city."

"Supply it for what?" asked Quade.

"A possible rebel uprising…"

"War junkies?" suggested Kid Colt.

"No doubt, like what we saw in Owensboro," added Ira.

"Indians," the marshal corrected them.

Marshall looked at the papers they had spread out on the table. "Black Pawnee..." he said devastatingly, "My family?"

Ira looked over at Marshall. To him it was just another order, but for Marshall, this request was entirely different. He would be forced to confront his myterious past. Could this be the opportunity he needed to find the rebel outlaw who made his father the cold-hearted killer that he was today? Could Marshall succeed where his brother, Ivy failed? Marshall quietly considered the idea of hunting down the outlaw known as 10 Crows.

Quade and Kid Colt only had one thing on their mind, what was in it for them?

"Clearly you know who each of us are..." said Peyton.

"Is that a question?" Marshal Wade cleared up.

"If I do this…” Peyton moved past the lump in his throat and forced himself to say it, basically validating his guiltiness, “I get a pardon?"

"Nothing in this world can forgive you for what you have done, Blackheart Quade. Your work downstairs, albeit messy, taking down one of your own, was a step in the right direction, a very small step" the other marshal said standing up, staring out the window. He walked over to the table and continued, “If you make it out of this alive we can work something out."

"As for you kid, "Marshal Wade continued, "we'll give you a full pardon for the murders you committed at Mount Hope and upon completion you will also receive a monetary reward."

"Done!" Kid Colt got up and shook the hands of the marshals.

They laughed, and Marshal Cass told him to sit back down. Quade did not budge, but sat still, undecided, along with Marshall. Ira asked what their orders were.

An explanation of their orders was given to them: They were to travel to Wichita and take the new Santa Fe train line out to Dodge, August 9th, with an issue of soldiers. Marshall would then attempt to gather any information on the attack from the Black Pawnee and Ira would lead the regiment, with Quade and Kid Colt fighting for their freedom, and other mercenary recruits along with union ally Pawnee soldiers. The battle would be essential to the vitality of Dodge.

“Is that why there was an ad in the newspaper?” Marshall concluded.

“That’s right, Troy. We’ve been putting this together since the end of the war.”

"Why us?" Ira asked finally.

"We were originally tracking you, Davis when you crossed paths with Troy and Quade. Fact is, we only had to background the kid, but to answer your question simply... You fit the case. When we need a bridge we go to a civil engineer, when we need a weapon we go to a gunsmith. You see what I'm gettin' at?"

"You boys fit the mold," the other marshal summed up.

"You go in with the army, blow the horn on the whole thing, and play deputy for a couple of days."

“As for that business at Clifton’s Forge, consider it taken care of.”

Both Peyton and Kid Colt shared curious glances at Marshall and Ira. But Kid Colt was too concerned with his own inquiries to digress in any events prior to his joining the group.

"Do we get badges?" Kid Colt mocked them openly.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"I don't need a stinkin' badge," scoffed Ira, "I’ll tell ya that."

Kid Colt laughed. The marshal sitting at the desk pulled out an envelope with marshal badges in them. "Marshall Troy, you have enough college tenure to be four marshals combined, here's your badge." He flicked it with his fingers and Marshall caught it. He put the envelope on the table and two more badges slid out. Kid Colt leaned forward at them.

"Do we have a deal?" asked the US Marshals.

Quade took a deep breath. He rubbed his lip and bounced back and forth inside his head. As Kid Colt reached for his shield, at the same time Quade went for his, they grabbed their badges together. Blackheart timed it perfectly with the kid. He knew the two of them were like two sides of a coin, the beginning, and the end of the same journey. After everything, only one of them would come out on top. In one seemingly harmless act he intertwined his fate along with Kid Colt's.

"We don't have a badge for you Davis. Only your reinstatement papers."

"That’s okay, marshal," Ira said as he got up and away from the papers, beginning to walk out, "I’ll be just fine without it. Is that all?" he stood prepared to salute.

“That wraps it up. Glad you boys are onboard, and we don’t even have to discuss the second option.”

“The option that involves shackles, bars, and 3 square meals a day?” asked Peyton.

“That’s right.”

"You’re all officially deputized.”

"Here are your coordinates and dates. Just make sure you're on that train!"

Ira walked out first, followed by Kid Colt. Ira nudged the kid and reached into his pocket. He pulled out the badge that he took from Clifton's Forge and said to Kid Colt, "I’ll be damned if I ain’t got my own badge already."

“Hot damn, Ira! Didn’t know you rolled like that.” Kid Colt could not help but laugh.

They came walking out from inside the ferry, and could now see city shoreline of St. Louis approaching up ahead. When they returned to the casino Ticonderoga was gone. The place was empty. It seemed that the rest of the crowd was rebel soldiers. They got outside to the deck as the ferry began acting strangely. The entire boat suddenly jerked after a ferocious explosion erupted from within the ship. The horses slid and toppled over. The rebels came rushing out of the cabin led by Ticonderoga.

They had taken over the ship. It was a mutiny. The marshals ran out of their office and laid down covering fire. Marshal Cass looked over at them, Quade stood behind Marshall. The marshal threw them a rifle. Marshall caught it and passed it over to Quade. Marshal Cass stopped firing, a brief pause of worry. What would happen if the government put a gun in the hands of the most well-known killer in the west?

Blackheart Quade liked the feel of the rifle. It was a Winchester. He looked back up at the Marshal. "If you think you need to…" said Cass, "Tell my father I sent you."

‘His father?’ Peyton thought.

There was only one man he knew by the name of Cass. He began popping off shots from the Winchester into the swooping deck. Could it be that crazy old man?

Soon the boat would flip over entirely, and all this would be for not. The rebels lost their footing, as the boat deck rose on their side, and they slid down towards Ira, Marshall, Peyton, Kid Colt, and the marshals. Peyton prepared to fire at them falling on him. Another explosion and the boat cracked in half. The impact knocked one of the marshals off into the river. The other one jumped in after him.

Ira slung his rifle over his shoulder and yelled at them, "The marshals are overboard!" He grabbed Kid Colt by the collar, still firing his dragoons, and jumped off the broken boat deck, yanking the kid along with him. Marshall followed them to the edge as Peyton shot at Ticonderoga with his rifle.

"QUADE!" Marshall screamed at him, “FORGET HIM AND LET’S GO!” as he dove over.

Peyton ran after Marshall and leaped off of the side firing one last shot in the air. The bullet sailed through the air for Ticonderoga’s chest. As rebel soldiers got in the way, Ticonderoga escaped the capsized boat as well as Quade’s final shot. Quade swam after his posse. He later washed up ashore to find them all gathering. All their supplies and horses were on the boat, and now at the bottom of the Mississippi.

Besides the clothes on their back, the only belongings they still had were their guns. Kid Colt helped Peyton out of the river, while Marshall caught his breath next to Ira checking the gunpowder in his rifle bullets. They got themselves up and walking until they hit a small town called Eureka.

Once their, Marshall visited the general store. Out of cash, he wrote a check.

"Aren't they gonna track that?"

"It doesn't matter anymore, Ira," confessed Marshall, "I’m sure the marshals have wired my father already. It's only a matter of time. After this is over, I'll just return to the city."

Ira looked at his friend. Marshall was different; somber and defeated. He had changed after the meeting with the marshals. Buck Troy was officially dead. Where Ira was eager for this opportunity, Marshall was torn. Sure, he wanted to meet the tribe that his mother was from, but at the cost of revealing his location to his tyrannical father? Whatever his original goals were for runnin’ to Dodge were now in vain.

Whether he approved or not of his son’s new government assignment, Marshall knew, his father would undoubtedly send FreeLander to retrieve him. Kid Colt was simply eager to win his reward, and Blackheart Quade was slowly finding his way towards redemption. They bought new mounts and new camp gear. They dried off and packed rations.

"You really are rich" Ira said as they walked out of the town completely re-equipped, still shocked over Marshall’s real identity.

“I have money from my practice on top of my trust in the railroads. With even a considerable percentage of my annual income going to various charities, I still manage to make-“

“You’re confusin’ me, Slick” Ira interjected.

"We should keep moving, we can make Kansas City by dawn if we sleep out in the wild tonight," advised Peyton halfheartedly.

Peyton and Marshall were still hesitant to go into any major city. Peyton was a renowned villain in these parts, and Marshall had to assume that a government poacher was now on his trail. They rode out for a couple more hours before making camp.

Around the fire, Peyton and Marshall decided to tell the rest of the posse of their persisting worries. Marshall told those who did not know of Jebediah FreeLander and Peyton only got into minor detail of the crimes he’s committed in Kansas. Ira and the kid agreed to follow the outer limits around any major city. The night grew late, and the fire simmered down. Ira went on with their plans. Marshall and the kid argued over their newfound “federal” backing and whether or not it gave them free license to kill. And Peyton unsuccessfully tried to keep his mind on the present.

1861

Civil War

Peyton

I assume by you being here that you’ve completed the final task I asked of you."

"Never ask me about that again."

"As you wish, Peyton"

"My name is Blackheart."

"I'm sorry....Blackheart," the old man corrected himself, "This is Kildare, he's a captain in the confederacy."

Blackheart and Slaughterhouse greeted the other two, "And this is Ticonderoga, from the Iroquis nation. I believe you already know Johnny Stacks, or as we call him, Rotten Johnny Stacks" The old man went on, "and lastly is this gentleman from the south who goes by the name, Lafayette.”

The Mexican was leaning over a fountain wall wearing a white sombrero and a white poncho.

"This is our team."

Quade looked around.

"You two will be my gang leaders. I have Captain Kildare and another captain in the field, if we follow my plan, along with help from the federales, we can rob this war blind, gentlemen." The man towered over all of them as he revealed his master plan.

Blackheart Quade and Slaughterhouse Slater were both excited. This would propel their fame into legend. It had been a couple of years after Dodge and their corruption. Since then, they had been feared throughout Kansas and forced to go further South and West. Their name was spreading along with their horrific story.

The war gang began their assault on the divided country. Blackheart and Slaughterhouse ran through towns while battles were raged around them and robbed the townsfolk of all they had. They crumbled cities above the Mason Dixon line, driving a stake deep into the heart of the Union. At times Blackheart and Slaughterhouse would ambush military bases with the captains, acting as southern militia.

Rotten Johnny Stacks would go into the towns and work his own angle. Robbing the churches and conning the families out of their fortunes. Lafayette didn’t do much, but just oversaw everything, much like a lawman. Their leader, the old man, known to them all as Tanner Crow, sat back with his second in command, Ticonderoga, and watched his masterminded plans come into fruition. He had a foolproof strategy and a flawless team. When something had to be taken care of, he sent Ticonderoga to delegate. Blackheart Quade led in the field. And by the end of the war, he had wiped the southwest out. When the war ended, the team performed one last heist in Wichita.

A bank Quade had robbed before. It was clockwork. All feeling was lost. There was only one thing that remained. One memory that haunted Peyton's every step. He could not escape it, no matter how far he ran. Nor could he dilute its hold over him, no matter how many terrible things he did after. There was no future left for him in this life. That's when Peyton realized that his life was spiraling loose. And first asked himself if it was worth saving.