The Loner: Inferno #12

“Ah. El Keed,” Guzman said, deliberately exaggerating the accent. “There have been others of your countrymen called by such a name, Senor Morgan, and they were all fast with a gun. Are you fast with a gun, as well?”

“Fast enough that I’m still alive,” The Kid replied.

The answer brought a laugh from Guzman. “An excellent response. At the end of the day, survival is the most important thing, is it not? Come, Senor Morgan, have a drink.”

Instead of the tequila, pulque, or mescal The Kid expected, Guzman poured snifters of what smelled like fine brandy. Tasted like it, too, The Kid discovered as he took a sip. It was more confirmation Guzman had expensive tastes. They all drank except Mateo.

“Now, what is this business you wish to discuss with me, Senor Kelly?”

Kelly tossed back the rest of his drink. “We have forty-four Apache scalps, Captain. Are you still paying a hundred dollars apiece?”

“A hundred in gold, in American dollars, yes,” Guzman replied with a nod. “As long as they are scalps from warriors. Women and children bring less, you know.”

“These scalps all came from Salvatorio’s war party.”

“I thought as much, from the way the chief reacted to the sight of you and your amigos. The Apaches hate you even more than they hate us.”

“That doesn’t bother me one blessed bit,” Kelly said.

“So, you wish to collect the bounty on these scalps you mention?”

“That’s right. And there are some more we’d like to collect as well.”

“More scalps, you mean?” Guzman asked with a frown.

“That’s right. Salvatorio and the rest of his men.”

For a long moment, Guzman just stared at Kelly. Then he said, “You are nothing if not audacious, senor. You know that a state of truce exists between me and the chief. Yet you come in here and ask me to jeopardize that state of peace simply so you can collect more blood money?”

A harsh note crept into Kelly’s voice. “Don’t talk to me about blood money, Captain. We’ve both stuffed plenty of it in our pockets.”

Anger flickered in Guzman’s dark eyes, but after a second he shrugged. “Go on. I cannot consider a plan if I do not know what it is.”

“I want the full bounty on the scalps we’ve already taken,” Kelly said firmly. “But as for the others, we’ll take half the money and you can have the other half. And you can blame the killings on us. Like you said, the Apaches already hate us. They can’t want us any deader than they already do.”

The Kid could tell Guzman was considering it. The Mexican government wanted the Apaches wiped out, but an army couldn’t do it. The Indians would just withdraw deeper into the mountains and hide until the soldiers grew tired and returned to where they came from.

The only way to get rid of the Apaches was piecemeal, killing smaller numbers of them when the opportunity presented itself, and for a job like that, scalphunters like Kelly and the others were the perfect tools.

The number of warriors still living in the mountain strongholds had already dwindled enough that sending the scalps of more than sixty Apache fighting men to Mexico City would be a definite feather in Guzman’s cap. As long as the politicians thought he was doing a good job, he could continue to play all sides against the others and keep amassing a small fortune from his slave trade. So the deal Kelly proposed would benefit Guzman in several different ways.

“What you suggest requires treachery on my part, Senor Kelly,” the captain finally said. “I would have to betray the chief. I am an honorable man.”

“Of course you are,” Kelly agreed without hesitation. “But a man’s word given to a primitive savage like Salvatorio ... well, that’s not really the same thing as giving your word to another gentleman, now is it?”

Guzman thought it over some more and slowly nodded. “What you say is true, Senor Kelly. If you were to do this, how would it be arranged?”

“The rest of Salvatorio’s men are close by, correct?”

Guzman nodded. “They wait a short distance south of here.”

“You need to get them inside the walls. Once they’re in, your men can open fire.”

“Which would be breaking the truce,” Guzman pointed out.

“If they’re all dead, who would ever know that? You could spread whatever rumor you wanted about it and say it was me and my friends who killed them.”

For a moment, Guzman looked like he could go along with that, but then his features hardened and he shook his head. “It will not work. The rest of the Apaches will not come inside the walls. Even if we threatened the lives of Salvatorio and the men with him, the others would not come in.”

“You’re not going to threaten anybody.” A sly smile stole over Kelly’s face. “You’re going to give them something they want, and that’s how my friends and I are going to earn our share of the bounty.”

“What do you mean by this?” Guzman asked, but The Kid suddenly had a pretty good idea of where Kelly was going with the plan.

He didn’t like it, either.

“You’re going to give those savages exactly what they want,” Kelly said again as he lifted a hand and made a sweeping gesture taking in himself, The Kid, Chess, Valdez, and Mateo. “You’re going to give them us.”

Chapter 24

Guzman stared at Kelly for a long moment without speaking. Then he threw back his head and boomed out a hearty laugh. “No one can claim that you lack for audaciousness, Senor Kelly.” He echoed his own comment from a few minutes earlier.

“Wait just a minute,” Chess said. “Don’t you think if you’re going to offer us up as sacrificial lambs, Kelly, you ought to ask us about it first?”

Kelly turned to regard him coldly. “Don’t I do the thinking and make the decisions for this bunch, Chess?” Kelly’s voice was mild enough, but it held a steely undercurrent of menace.

Chess backed down a little by shrugging. “Sure you do. This business just sort of took me by surprise.”

“Anyway, we won’t be sacrificial lambs,” Kelly went on. “More like ... staked goats.” He grinned. “Staked goats with guns.”

He turned to Guzman and continued. “You can tell Salvatorio that you took us prisoner and decided to turn us over to him if he’ll assemble all his men in the courtyard out there. Act like you want to make a big show out of it. He’ll understand that.”

Guzman nodded. “Yes, yes, go on.”

“It’ll look like we’re disarmed, but we’ll have guns under our shirts. The Apaches come marching in, figuring they’re going to have a fine old time torturing us to death, and as soon as they’re all through the gates, your men open fire on them from the parapet. We’ll pull out our own guns and get in on it.”

“If I were to do this thing, all the Apaches must die,” Guzman cautioned. “Every one. None can escape to carry the tale back to their stronghold.”

“We can make sure of that, Captain. They’ll all die.” Kelly smiled. “Then we split the money for those scalps, and everybody is happy. Except for Salvatorio and the rest of his savages, of course. By then they won’t be feeling a thing. The rest of the Apaches will never know the truth.” He hesitated. “That is, if you can control your men and make sure they don’t say anything.”

Guzman’s bearded chin jutted out as if he were insulted by the suggestion that he might not be able to control his men. “My Rurales are loyal to me! My thoughts are their thoughts, my words are their words.”

“In that case, you don’t have anything to worry about,” Kelly said.

“It sounds as if it might work.” Guzman gave a thoughtful nod.

“There’s just one more thing. Salvatorio brought some prisoners in here with him tonight.”

Guzman looked surprised. “How do you know that?” Before Kelly could answer, he went on. “Yes, yes, you’ve