Chapter Nine.
Allen relaxed in a small anteroom close to the main chamber of the town council, laying on the cot that was provided. He was relaxed with crossed ankles, hands clasped on his stomach, and a hat on his chest. He was feeling smug as shit. Real life, and he had managed to half-ass a “Dirty Harry” quote. He planned to tell this story for years if he lived.
The room was essentially a cell. His eyes were unfocused. He hummed tunelessly, deep in thought. His head bobbed and nodded to a beat that only he knew. The sun had set. It was a cloudy night. The light from sky fire diffused through the thin clouds and gave everything a greenish background glow. Two oil lamps were locked behind flat wrought iron cages, mounted high on the wall above his cot. A table and chairs stood in the center of the room.
He wasn’t really a prisoner. The man standing on the other side of that door, wasn’t really a guard. But, Allen didn’t have the privilege of leaving or walking around unsupervised. Some captors really had no manners. Tie you up with rope or tie you to a tree. That really let you know where you stood.
Tied up to a pole with your hands behind your back and facing men with guns pointed at you, You really knew where you stood. It was a shitty place to stand, but you had a place in time to examine the choices you had made.
You also learned to talk a good game in order to delay the whole bullet in your face thing. That was important. A lot of dead men had never figured the delaying game out. A firing squad involved a very steep learning curve. A firing squad was a harsh teacher.
Michael Stevens was lying on the cot next to the opposite wall. He was mumbling something about his dead parents, and his live sister. And an angel named Kathleen. Allen snorted, no way a woman that perfect existed outside of a storybook. Allen’s own wives being the exception. He was deeply concerned about Stevens. A concussion was a real fucking problem if you didn’t have access to a proper doctor.
Allen got up, went over to Mike’s cot and leaned into Mike’s face. Allen pried Michael’s eyes open. Both pupils were the same size. And that exhausted all of his medical training on head injuries that were not gushing blood.
Allen was far more experienced in giving head wounds than treating them.
He mumbled under his breath, “Not my circus, not my monkey, not my circus, not my monkey.”
But damn it, it felt like he had a monkey. And he felt like he should look out for its welfare. He had to bust out of this cell. But he had to do it without killing anyone.
Realistically, he had to do it without hurting anyone. The authorities would run him to the ground if they felt vengeance was called for. That wasn’t even the reason he discounted the idea of escaping and hurting someone in the attempt. Regardless of what many people had called him, he wasn’t a sociopath. Nor did he do things without thinking them through.
His actions when he had first met Michael had been a bluff. Torture gained you nothing if you were looking for information. The person being tortured would tell you exactly what you wanted to hear in order to make the pain stop. The THREAT of torture, now that was a powerful motivator. You had to be a good actor. You had to sell it. If they knew you well enough, the bluff was useless. If your prisoner had a concussion, the entire act was a waste of time.
Allen sighed. He had a list of things he wanted to avoid. Hurting, killing or maiming some poor sod who was just doing their job was at the top of the list. People would go a long way to avenge a loved one. Shit.
The door to the room that was not a cell opened. The door clunked as a giant man entered the cell. The man was enormous. A finger shy of two meters tall. Dark brown hair, bushy eyebrows. He had a square, lean face that didn’t look like it spent a lot of time smiling. Scowling, definitely. But not smiling. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man.
Mentally, Allen prepared to piss himself. There was no way he could defend himself from an adversary like that. Not without a gun. The giant had a metal star pinned to his chest. The sheriff looked around the room then fixed his gaze on Allen.
Bloody hell, that man was intimidating.
Steeling himself for an ass kicking, Allen asked ”How may I help you, señor?”
The man had a deep voice. He rested his hand on the pistol worn high on his right hip. “My name is Walt Renaldo. I am the Sheriff. And by that, I mean I am the law. I don’t care what you think about your situation. If I decide you need to hang, you will dance at the end of a rope. The judge in this town and I have a very close relationship. Everything we do in this region is legal. We keep the peace, and we make sure we are fair. That’s why we are the lawgivers. People trust and believe in us.” He leaned down, “Do you understand me?”
Allen looked him in the eye and said, “Shit.”
***
Allen was a dangerous man to start a fight with. With many dead men in his past to prove it. He had also been in many a barroom or brothel brawl.
A skilled fighter did not rush in and just start throwing haymakers. A skilled fighter assessed his opponent and his surroundings.
After a quick assessment, Allen knew damn well he wasn’t gonna start a fight. Not starting a fight with a man that big was very high on “The list of men not to start a fight with.”
A cell with a guard tops “The list of places not to get in a fight.”
Unless you had a weapon that would end that fight while exposing yourself to the least amount of physical harm. Even then, a fight with a man like that was a big gamble. The sheriff wasn’t a lumbering ox. He moved like a man half his size. Quick. Precise. The Sheriff was a man who you didn’t fuck with. Not without a damn good reason. He had the weight of the law behind him, too. This man could lawfully end his life. And he had the trust and support of the entire community if he wasn’t lying. This man was incredibly dangerous.
Moving slowly, Allen sat back on the cot, scooted backward until his back was against the wall, then slowly and carefully put his hands in his lap. “Sheriff, I…”
The enormous man lifted his left hand, held it palm out, and shook his head.
“I want you to listen to me carefully. The city of Redford claims a total territory of roughly 300 square miles on both sides of the Rio Grande, including the lake. I know every man, woman, child, and dog that lives in it. I also know the people that live just outside our territory. I believe in knowing my neighbors. The men you are following, they kept the wagons guarded and covered. But one of my deputies saw a face he thought he recognized, belonging to a young girl named Maddie Gonzáles. The Gonzáles family lives 20 miles downriver, south of the lake in a walled compound with three other families. Two of my deputies felt this was suspicious and went to check it out.”
The tall man continued.“I was on the other side of the river, settling a grazing dispute. My deputies investigated and discovered that a large group had attacked the walled homestead. They reported their findings a day later. Do you know the place? Three miles southwest of the lake, lots of maize in the fields. A large cottonwood tree in the center of the yard. With a tree fort in it for the children.”
Allen nodded. “I know the place, señor. They breached the wall on the southern side. There were many bodies. Men and boys. Someone had ransacked the casa and outbuildings and poisoned the well. The attackers killed a burro, hung it over the well, then gutted it and dropped it in. I tried to pull the carcass out, but couldn’t do it.”
Walt looked down at him. “I sent my sneakiest deputy after the wagons and told her not to get herself caught or killed. Almost as soon as they were outside of the territory claimed by Redford, they attacked a small homestead owned by the Castillo family. They took the woman and shot the young husband and their boy. They stole food and horses. And they left four horses for dead. They literally ran them to death. They are moving north, following the river and they are hauling ass. At this pace, they'll be in old Albuquerque in about a week.”
The sheriff shook his head, then shrugged. “There are lots of tribes living up that way. That will slow them down. The pueblos are armed and organized. Those men will not run their horses to death and steal more. And they also will not steal food easily.” Renaldo placed his hands on his hips and turned to face north.
He sighed and turned back. “You are four days behind them. Katey borrowed a raft from a farmer. She made it back to town today. I’ve heard what Old Billy and the gate guards said about your interview with the mayor and the city council. I’ve examined your gear, and this man’s stuff. Both of you are ill-equipped for a long journey. But your belongings are way beyond anything I have ever seen in terms of workmanship. You say that there are soldiers following you. And these men are under your command?”
Allen replied, “They are not my men, but the army has ordered them to take my suggestions.”
Walt scowled.
Zapata explained, “The men following me are under the command of captain Hector Alvarado and I am not a member of his company. My commanding officer ordered me to track the kidnappers immediately, as I was the one who discovered the attack and had some scouting experience. The Senior Army officer for this territory is Captain-Commander O’Keefe. I was promised that Hector would be following me as soon as a message could reach Fort Hancock in El Porviner, Mexico.”
“I do not know what transpired after I set out. But from what I know of Captain Alvarado, he will have immediately set forth with at least two squads of soldiers. Roughly fifty men. That is the smallest unit of men that are constantly prepared to head out at a moment’s notice. They are called the Quick Reaction Force. Fifty men are enough to go into battle with and still be able to move with speed. They are coming. They are coming closer every minute. Each trooper will have a primary mount and one re-mount, carrying water and food. The troop will move close to five miles at a gallop, then stop and rest the horses for thirty minutes. After walking nearly 2 miles beside the horses, they will remount and walk about 3 miles. Then switch horses and start all over again. They will only slow down at night for the safety of the horses.”
Allen raised both his hands in a helpless gesture and shook his head. “I have been moving as fast as I can. But we have to forage for food and water and my friend and I only have one horse each. We cannot maintain the pace set by the kidnappers. We don’t have enough valuables to trade for more horses or food. If we steal what we need, any locals who survived the Brotherhood will turn against us. When this nightmare began, we were a day and a half behind the kidnappers. Now all we can do is to mark a trail and follow until the army catches up with us.”
Sheriff Renaldo shook his head and said, “You may not believe this señor Zapata, but I am a very well-read man. I have an extensive book collection, mostly military history. And what is happening to you right now matches a situation that I believe is called…FUBAR.”
Allen burst out laughing. He laughed hysterically. For over a minute, he couldn’t stop. His eyes were watering, and he was bent over wheezing
He only stopped when he heard Mike say, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Mike straightened up and looked around blearily. "Where are we?" he inquired.
Allen shushed him as he looked at the giant in the brown coat. He wiped the tears from his eyes, still hyperventilating. He finally got himself under control.
The Sheriff stared at him for a long moment then paced, thinking furiously. He barked, “Ben!”
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
The door opened, and a Ben peered into the room. “¿Señor?”
“Send Katey in here then shut the door and take a walk outside.”
Ben asked, “Are you sure Jefé? He looks dangerous.” The sheriff just stared at the man.
“Oh. Right?” He turned his head and said, “Kate, the boss wants you.”
A slight woman with braided light brown hair walked in. The door swung shut behind her but didn’t close entirely. She wore buckskin trousers and a brown linen shirt covered by a light brown leather coat. A brown leather hat hung off her back. Her clothing would blend in well in the countryside. She wore a pistol belt. Her clothing was soiled. A heart shaped face and clear skin dotted with freckles. A pretty young woman. She looked like she hadn’t slept for a few days.
Allen looked her over. He turned to the sheriff and said, “This is your sneaky deputy, I presume?”
The woman just stared at him as she crossed her arms. Her fingers made tapping motions on her upper arm as she looked him over. She turned and asked, “Are you sure about this, Papa? This will cause trouble with the mayor.”
“I’m sure. Señor Zapata...excuse me señor, but what is your rank and position in this army of yours?”
Allen stared at him, then cautiously answered, “Infantry.”
Renaldo glared at him and said, “And your rank in the infantry?” Allen stared at him, obviously weighing the truth against a lie. Sheriff Renaldo leaned down slightly. He placed his right hand on his pistol. His face hardened and his eyes narrowed. He asked softly, “Why the reluctance?”
Bloody hell, the man was intimidating.
Allen shrugged. “In this territory, I have no rank. I am not part of the Third Army. My unit is stationed in Northern Mexico. The men following me are not under my command. Let me ask you this, is there another town this size close by? Say, within a week’s travel?”
“Yes. Winston is about that far.”
Allen nodded. “So, if you traveled to that town, could you arrest a criminal there without speaking with the town’s leadership? Since you are a sheriff here, you can just be a sheriff anywhere, right?”
”I’m pretty sure you know the answer to that question, Zapata.”
Allen grimaced. “My unit is not in this territory. Captain Alvarado outranks me. I was a scout and I have no legal authority here. But I am a squad leader.”
“Once again, why the reluctance?”
Allen sighed, “I don’t know you, señor. I don’t know if I can trust you not to take me hostage. Or, as you put it, ‘make me dance at the end of a rope.’ The city council and the mayor made a very credible threat to my life. I'm an officer in the Army of The Republic and I lead men in battle. I close with my enemy and destroy or capture them. Before I became a Squad Leader, I was an infantry scout. My job was to find the enemy and lead the army to them. Every soldier is valuable. But officers require more training and have more responsibility. A squad leader is more valuable as a hostage than a private soldier or a sergeant.”
Walt and Kate glanced at each other.
Walt said, “Let me guess, a slender man named Ramón made the threat?”
Allen nodded and added, “The mayor also seemed very interested in making me disappear. He didn’t like some questions I was asking.”
Renaldo heaved a sigh. “I’m not gonna lie to you. The mayor is a greedy son of a bitch, and a bastard to boot. Those men in the ‘Brotherhood’ as you call them, offered to trade women for food and supplies. He didn’t take them up on the offer. We don’t condone slavery here. And if he had tried to take them up on their offer, the entire town would have probably strung him up. Then joyfully had a new election before his body cooled. The people dislike him enough that he has to pay attention to them.”
“He is charged with protecting the city and its residents. But Old Billy is the head of the watch, and he and I have similar views on letting one man have too much power. We have laws, and our laws come from The Contract. He may act like it, and I know he wants it, but the mayor isn’t a king.”
“Now, Ramón may be a bastard, but he’s a smart bastard. Ramón is the one who sent me the heads up about you, and ordered the guardsmen to give me the rundown on your meeting with the council. He also sent me your gear to get my opinion of it. Ramón is not powerful enough to oppose the mayor openly. He isn’t stupid, and he sees the danger being courted by the mayor.”
“There are two other city council members. One was sick, and the other was moving his cattle herd. Those two are the more reasonable members. They usually act to soften any directives that come from the council chambers. Letting those men go seems like condoning slavery. And that left a foul taste in a lotta mouths.”
He paused.
“But they were a group of armed men. Thirty-eight of them. They wore uniforms, and they all had the same kinds of weapons. They were not some outlaw band, they clearly represented someone or something.” He scowled.
It was Kate’s turn to talk. “The leader had a private chat with the mayor. Before anyone really knew what was happening, the mayor ordered the gate guards to let them into the town. Thirty-eight heavily armed men were in the center of town. And no warning given to the watch. People decided that it was a fine day to walk around carrying a gun. They were very polite. By the time the watch showed up, the leader of the group was in a meeting with the city council.”
“After the meeting, the men guarding the wagons started pulling out ingots of lead, brass, and copper. They got a really good trade in terms of horses and food. Some complained it was too good. But the mayor said he was looking at opening trade with a new power up north. And this was a way to curry favor.”
The sheriff sighed loudly. He looked down at the woman and said, “Kate, I’m going to need you to...”
She interrupted. “Shit jefé. You know what people are going to say,” she said tiredly.
“You know what needs to happen, Katey. People need to think it’s plausible. This way, we don’t start a political battle with the mayor. Especially if we are gonna get a visit from another group of armed men.”
She sighed in resignation. "Why do I have to be overpowered?" she demanded. “Ben is complete shit in a fight.”
There came a muffled “HEY!” from the other room.
Shaking his head, the sheriff pointed at her holster. “Is that your old piece?”
She nodded. The sheriff pointed to Allen. “The story goes like this. You overpowered Kate here when she came in to bring the prisoners dinner. After taking her hostage, you called Ben into the room, disarmed him, and tied him up. With a gun to her back, you both headed to the stable. I had your horse and equipment readied, and she’s ready to go. You tie my deputy up and slip out the small gate near the stable, and off you go.”
The sheriff stopped and stared Allen directly in the eyes. “If you do anything untoward to my deputy, my daughter, I will hunt you down and hang you by the neck until you regret ever meeting her. I will let you dangle for the rest of your life.” His voice lowered, “And just so you know, I know how to place a hangman’s noose the right way, and the wrong way. Am I clear?”
Allen was already shaking his head emphatically in agreement, “Absolutely Sir, yes Sir! I understand completely!”
They turned in surprise when Mike said in a loud voice, “Those animals have my sister. I’m going with you.”
Allen stepped in between the two lawmen and commanded Mike to look at him. “We will talk about it over dinner, okay? Those men hurt you badly, Michael Stevens’son. My people will be here soon, and they can help you.” Behind his back, he waved his hand back and forth while he was talking.
Renaldo glanced at his daughter. He said, “Katey, would you please go get a pot of that bear stew from over at the saloon? Ben and I are going to get the story nice and tidy.”
***
The room that wasn’t really a cell was actually quite cozy, especially with good food and pleasant conversation involved. And Ben, the “not really a jailer” was quite a pleasant dinner companion.
They hammered the plan out over dinner. Walt would wait until the changing of the guard. Then he would send the watchmen out to the southern walls for the evening. The sheriff’s deputies would take responsibility for the prisoners. Thus freeing the watchmen up to guard against more strangers approaching the city.
They would tie Ben up and Kate would escort Allen to the small stable toward the north-eastern corner of the city. There, he would find his horse and all his stuff. The plan was brilliant.
Over dinner, Allen’s mind wandered. Idly, he wondered if the cow that had made the sheriff’s coat had a name. Most people just called a cow ‘Cow’. Allen liked to give cows names. Cows were nice people to talk to. When you were out in the middle of nowhere, standing watch with only some animals to keep you company, you needed someone to talk to. Cows didn’t judge, they just listened and were quietly supportive. Horses, on the other hand, were pretty judgmental.
He snapped back to the conversation when he heard his name. Crap. Sleep deprivation was turning into a real issue. Back to the problem at hand.
Mike had reared his pretty head. He refused to stay behind and get medical care. He was going to find his sister. An argument started, and then everyone agreed Mike would accompany Allen. Unbeknownst to Mike, everyone had privately decided that mike was going to be tied up next to Ben while Allen made his escape.
Walt was going to act as a lookout. If anyone showed up, he would signal the deputies with some sort of bird call. The conspirators were sitting at the table, eating an excellent bear stew and having an enjoyable time, when a bell rang softly in the distance. Midnight. Mike was asleep on his cot, thanks to some mystery powder Kate had added to his tea. They discussed methods of tying Ben up so he could claim innocence regarding the jailbreak.
Allen stood up and said, “Um, if you guys don’t mind, please remain calm.” He then pulled the front of his belt buckle away from his body, then up and out. Producing a punch dagger with a three inch long, razor-sharp, double-edged blade. All three of the lawmen froze.
Allen cleared his throat, then turned the blade around and offered it to the sheriff. “Use this to cut the blanket up into some wide strips. That way, you don’t have to worry about any injury because of a loss of circulation.”
All three of the lawmen glared at him. Allen shrugged and put on his best innocent look. Ben went outside to the outhouse and relieved himself. He then settled in for his night of bondage. Mike was sleeping and snoring softly, with his hands bound behind his back.
Once again, Allen cleared his throat and said, “Uh, if you don’t mind, please remain calm.” He then pulled on the long bone tip of one of the wind cords of his hat. The lawmen glared at him again. “Oops, uhm, wrong one.”
He put the two inch long metal spike back into the cord. He pulled on the other. “This is full of invisible ink. Sheriff, I would like to mark your hand with it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know how they do things in the Third Army, but someone will approach the city. They will ask to speak to the leaders of the community. It might be Captain Alvarado, or one of his senior officers, or a scout. If you see ANY scout, tell her you want to talk to her. Say ‘TEACUP’, and then show her your hand.”
Walt asked, “How will I know the scout?”
“She will be about the same size and stature as your daughter. The soldiers will be large men and women wearing bulky vests. The uniforms will be covered with pockets and straps. And covered with strange things. Their uniforms will have brown, green, and black squares about the size of the end of your finger. They will have brown rifles and helmets.”
“A scout carries a small, dark green rifle and will have a pistol on her hip. She will have a big floppy hat with grass and weeds stuck in it and may wear or be carrying a cloak with more grass and leaves stuck to it. She will look like she would disappear if she lay down on the ground. There will be no mistaking her.”
“Approach her and say ‘Kiowa, Teacup.’ And show her your hand. She will answer with ‘Tempest.’ Tell her ‘township unaligned, leadership divided, possible allies, proceed accordingly. Allen Zapata was here and left 0200’ on today’s date. Tell her everything you and I have discussed.”
"Tell her the code word 'Honcho' and show her the mark on your hand. This will make you the De facto ambassador to the Republic.
Allen looked him straight in the eye. “That might make politics complicated in your town. But the Republican Army will back you. The mayor should have received the mark and the code words. But since he seemed okay with having me killed, he can go fu…ahem, he can go to Hell.”
He nodded to himself. “You and Captain Alvarado can figure it out.”
***
Sheriff Renaldo went out into the courtyard to keep watch. Allen and Kate got ready for the escape. Kate gave him her pistol and Allen emptied the cylinder of bullets. Kate eyed him inquisitively.
Allen looked at her and shrugged. “The last thing I want to do is to hurt someone. If we get caught, I’m going to run away on foot. Or let myself get captured. If I get brought back here, I’ll just wait until the army shows up and demands my release.”
Kate shook her head and said, “You seem pretty certain they will show up.”
Allen looked at her, then at Ben. “Let me ask you a question. How many deputies does the sheriff have?”
Kate said “Ten”, Ben chimed in with “Ghen.”
Allen chuckled, then looked at Kate and said, “The sheriff sent you to follow the wagons, knowing the danger they represented to you personally. As a woman. Knowing what would happen if they discovered you. It never occurred to you to protest? Suggest he send one of the male deputies instead?”
She shook her head and said, “No.”
Allen nodded. “He trusted you to do the job. If he had told you he would follow as soon as he finished some important business, would you have doubted him? If he said he couldn’t make it himself, do you believe he would have sent some of his deputies, or a posse?”
Ben was nodding his head and making some affirmative sounds while Kate answered, “Absolutely.”
“Because he is your father? Or because you’re a deputy and he’s the sheriff?”
The question was answered immediately with “mreriph” and “Sheriff.”
“And you know this. You believe it. You feel it in your bones because your boss would never, ever send you off on a mission like that if he didn’t believe in you. And if he said he would send help, you know he would do everything is his power to support you.”
“This is the same belief that I have. It extends not just to my commander, but to the Generals. And the leaders of my nation. The Quick Reaction Force is coming.”
A strange whistle coming through the slit window interrupted him.
Kate perked up, “That’s the signal, let’s go.”