The Loner: Inferno #12

been trailing them, I remember. You have seen the women?”

“Not close up yet.”

Guzman chuckled and moved to the sideboard to pour more brandy into his glass. “They are all quite attractive, the blonde and the redhead most of all. The blonde is not what you would call beautiful, but she has a fire to her. Any man fortunate enough to share his bed with her would have a challenge on his hands, mi amigo!” Guzman downed some of the brandy and licked his lips. “You and your men want to spend some time with the women before I send them to my associates in Mexico City, is that it?”

“Actually, we want to take the women with us, as part of our share in the payoff,” Kelly said.

Guzman stared at him, lips tightening into a thin line. The captain shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. The women are going to Mexico City. As I said, you and your men may spend some time with them—none of them are virgins, after all, so that will not affect their value—but that is all. If you insist on this ...”

The tone of unspoken menace that hung in the air as Guzman’s voice trailed off made the threat clear. He could always turn Kelly and his men over to the Apaches for real, then double-cross Salvatorio.

Kelly held up both hands, palms out. “Don’t get me wrong, Captain. I’m not insisting on anything. It was just a proposal, that’s all.”

“It was a foolish one,” Guzman snapped. “Do we have a bargain?”

Kelly nodded. “We have a bargain.”

“Very well. I see no point in waiting. Surrender your guns.”

Valdez said, “I don’t like giving up my guns. How do we know we can trust this hombre?”

Guzman’s eyes glittered icily as he sneered at Valdez. “Kelly, speak to this peasant who works for you.”

Valdez stiffened in anger.

Kelly said quickly, “Lupe, take it easy. We have to make it look good for the Apaches. If we’re going to do that, we can’t be packing iron. You can keep one gun. Just hide it under your shirt.”

The Irishman glanced at Guzman to make sure that was all right. Guzman gestured in a superior fashion to indicate that it was.

The Kid found himself in the unusual position of agreeing with Valdez. He didn’t like giving up his guns, either. But Kelly had a point about making it look good. The Kid took his Colt from its holster and tucked it behind his belt at the small of his back, letting the tail of his buckskin shirt hang over the gun butt so it was hidden.

“Knives, too,” Kelly said. “Everybody shuck all your weapons except one gun.”

It didn’t take long for the men to prepare. Guzman suggested that they leave their hats behind, too, and make their clothing look like they had been in a fight. They needed to look disheveled, disarmed, and helpless the next time the Apaches saw them.

While they were doing that, Guzman called his clerk Luis into the room and explained the plan to him, so he could pass the necessary orders on to the rest of the Rurales. The young man listened intently, his narrow face expressionless.

When Guzman was finished, Luis nodded. “Si, Commandante,” he said, then hurried out.

A short time later, eight Rurales with rifles showed up.

“These men will escort you down to the courtyard and act as your guards,” Guzman explained. “If they treat you roughly in any way, it will only be to make things look more convincing to Salvatorio.”

Valdez growled something under his breath. He wasn’t going to like being pushed around, The Kid thought, but he would put up with it in order to collect more bounty money.

“One more thing,” Guzman said to Kelly. “After our business is concluded, you and your men must leave and stay away from here for a while. I want no trouble at this time from the remaining Apaches in the area, so I must maintain the impression that I oppose your activities.”

“I reckon we can do that,” Kelly said. “Until next time we have some scalps to sell.”

The Kid spoke up for the first time in a while. “You mean for us to leave tonight?”

“What would hold you here, Keed?” Guzman asked with his annoyingly smug smile. Then understanding dawned on his face. “Ah, I see. It is not what holds you, but rather what you wish to hold. The women. Am I correct?”

The Kid had to know where the prisoners were being held if he was going to have any chance of rescuing them, and what better way to find out than to have the Rurales show him?

He shrugged. “You told us we could spend some time with them.”

“Indeed I did, and I suppose it would not hurt anything for you men to spend the night here. But we will discuss it when our business is concluded. Is that satisfactory for you, Keed?”

“You’re the boss,” The Kid said.

“And you will do well to remember that.” Guzman gestured to the Rurales. “Take them to the courtyard. I’ll wait a few minutes and then fetch Salvatorio and the men he brought with him.”

As they left the room with the armed men following them, Kelly said quietly to The Kid, “I already did my best to get you what you wanted, Morgan. Don’t go pushing Guzman or you’ll foul this up for us. All he needs is an excuse to double-cross us, and he may try to do it even without one.”

“He promised us time with the women,” The Kid whispered back.

“Are you that anxious to say good-bye to your sweetheart? I like you, Kid, and you’ve been a good addition to the bunch, but I’ll cut you loose in a second if I have to. See how long you last with Guzman on your own.”

“I’m not going to ruin anything. Don’t worry.”

Kelly’s frown made it clear that he was going to worry, though, at least until the deal reached its bloody conclusion.

Men were hurrying along the parapets and getting into position as the group reached the courtyard in front of the headquarters building. A burly Rurale came up behind Valdez and without warning kicked the back of his knee, making Valdez’s leg buckle underneath him.

“Get down, dogs!” the Rurale ordered loudly in Spanish. “On your knees, all of you!”

Guzman had warned that they might be roughed up. Even so, the severity of it surprised The Kid as another guard moved up behind him and rammed the butt of his rifle between The Kid’s shoulder blades. The blow knocked him to the ground.

All around him, more Rurales closed in and battered Kelly, Chess, and Mateo off their feet as well. Booted feet thudded into ribs as the Rurales kicked them. As The Kid rolled away from one of the blows, he caught a glimpse of the small group of men standing on the porch of the headquarters building. Guzman had emerged from the building with Salvatorio and two more Apaches.

Salvatorio wore a grim smile as he watched the scalp hunters being mistreated by the guards.

The Rurales stepped back and covered The Kid and the other men with their rifles. Guzman spoke in Spanish to Salvatorio, who nodded and turned to grunt a command in Spanish to one of his lieutenants. The man trotted across the courtyard toward the gates.

Guzman called the order to open the gates. The Apache messenger slipped between them and disappeared into the night.

It looked like everything was going as planned, The Kid thought. Salvatorio had sent the runner to bring the rest of the Apaches to the compound, where they would take the so-called prisoners and lead them away to a grisly fate.

Valdez muttered in Spanish as he lay there beside The Kid, who understood just enough to know that the Mexican was talking about killing somebody when it was over. The Kid didn’t know who Valdez meant specifically, but there were plenty of possibilities.

Minutes dragged by while they waited. Chess whispered, “What’s going on, Kelly? Something’s gone wrong.”

“Take it easy. It’ll take a few minutes for the rest of the savages to get here.”

From the corner of his eye, The Kid saw Guzman and Salvatorio step down from the porch and walk toward them. Salvatorio drew his knife. It would ruin everything if the war chief decided to start carving them up before the rest of the Apaches walked into the trap, The Kid thought. None of the “prisoners” was going to lie there and allow himself to be tortured just to keep up the masquerade.

Salvatorio didn’t use the knife. He started spitting on them. As a glob of warm spittle landed on the back of his neck, The Kid reined in the anger he felt. Soon enough, the courtyard would explode into violence and death, and he would be right in the middle of it. Time enough then to let his anger out.