A Good Day To Kill (10 page)

“When I left our camp at Tubac two days ago, I had my mind set to bring her home safe and sound.”

“Me, too,” Cole said, and they went off the hillside trail for the spread-out country below them.

That evening, they found Roamer and Ortega's camp at a small rancher's place. His name was Diego Vargas, and his much younger pregnant wife, Vye, welcomed them with a smile. They put their horses in a pole corral. There was a stack of straw hay that, no doubt, Roamer had purchased to feed the Force's animals when they all got there. Ortega mounted up and left to meet the others and bring them there.

“How have you been?” Roamer asked Chet as they took seats on some crates for chairs under a canvas shade. He was whittling and cutting on some cedar-like wood.

“I've been fine. Who are these bandits?”

“Renaldo Montoya is the leader. He was once a
Federales
officer, who was busted and court-martialed on charges of illegal business. He was sent to prison, escaped, and runs his gang from up here, which is a kind of a no man's land.”

“Are these people in any danger for helping us?”

“Some, but they know the risk. Diego wishes him taken down. I told him our job was to recover the woman he kidnapped and get her alive and unharmed. I know that he'd like to have Montoya eliminated—killed off.”

“We didn't come here to do that.”

“He knows that, but he's hoping Montoya gets caught in some crossfire.”

“Where are they holding her?”

“He has a ranch fortress in the hills. From things we learned from snitches, we're sure she's being held there. They have a couple of Gatling guns and a cannon or two. Several of their men were once soldiers and they have a lot of military arms and ammo,” said Roamer.

“Single-shot rifles?”

“Yeah, he stole them from the Army.”

“A bucket of melted grease and a pail of sand will stop those Gatling guns.”

Roamer frowned at him.

“A friend of mine who was in the war served on a gun crew. He said the damn things jammed if you pulled them down dusty roads all day.”

In disbelief, Roamer dropped his head and shook it. “I thought they were untouchable.”

“I know we haven't got close enough so far to dust them, but we need to think about that. Something they count on for defense of their fort that won't work could deal them a death blow.”

Roamer whittled some more. “When this job is over and whenever you go back to ranching, will Marshal Blevins still want this Force of yours down here?”

“I suppose so. Why?”

He threw his stick away, folded his jackknife, and nodded. “I'd start looking for a place down here. Told my wife that if I could get this job, we'd live down here. It ain't as nice as Preskitt, but she agreed, and I won't ever satisfy Simms. So if you decide to go back to ranching, I'd like your job.”

“I'd miss having you help me at home.”

“I know, and I'd miss you. But I have four kids, more coming, and I sure need a good job.”

“I'll talk to Blevins and I believe he'll want you.”

“Chet, you've been a real friend since we fought Ryan off that Verde Ranch.”

“It's been a two-way trail. What's the layout for this fort?”

“Head on, impossible. I mentioned the guns, but I think we can slip in the back way and surprise them. Grab her, I hope, and get the hell out before they get organized.”

“We need a detailed map and it needs to be accurate.”

“There's a man coming tonight that can do that. His name is Fred. I don't know enough Spanish, but Ortega can translate for us. He's worked inside there. I have a map made of the fort and how to get in. But this guy knows the real guts of the place.” Roamer pushed his hat back on his head.

Chet thanked him. He was on a good track.

Later, the others arrived. JD came and shook Roamer's and Chet's hands.

“Have a good trip?” Chet asked JD.

“Hot one. No one paid us any attention that I could tell.”

“Good, Roamer has a man coming to give us more details on the place where they're holding her. This
generale
's fort is going to be tough to take. But Ortega heard he likes young
putas
and frequents such places. He thinks we might be able to grab him there and get her back in exchange.”

“Not a bad idea,” said JD.

Ortega nodded. “There were only two privates guarding his carriage when he went into one of those places. But we were not ready yet to move on him.”

“He goes there often?”

“Quite often,” Ortega said. “But sometimes he has six guards. We need to catch him with fewer than that.”

“Both of you have some great ideas. I think Vye has supper coming. She cooked two goats today, I understand.”

“She's good at cooking things,” Roamer said.

His crew was all there. They needed a workable plan and to execute it swiftly. He turned his attention to her food. Vye was a great cook and they had plenty to eat. Later, the small man named Fred arrived and he drew plans of the fort for them. He pointed out the barracks where the men lived, their mess hall, the big house that Montoya lived in, the arsenal, and the horse pens. He said some men with
riatas
tossed on the posts could rip them down, drive the horses up the canyon behind and out into the desert, leaving Montoya's army afoot.

“How many men does he have?” Chet asked Ortega, and he translated it as twenty-five, and all trained soldiers.

That was sobering for Chet. “Let's try to catch him at the whorehouse. Then we can go to plan B.”

He thanked the man through Ortega and paid him ten
pesos
. The man acted very appreciative for the money.

“Can we check and see if he's there this evening?” Chet asked.

“It's not far. We waited, knowing you were coming. Is that what we should do? Kidnap him?” Roamer looked grim. “They might try to get him back.”

Chet shook his head. “They don't want his corpse. They'll know we mean business.”

“Saddle up,” Roamer said. He shook his head. “I see lots of repercussions. Ain't that the word?”

“It's a good one and we may have them. We aren't the law here, but we have to think like outlaws.” Chet clapped him on the shoulder. All he knew was that this plan, if it worked, beat an attack on a military base.

They rode single file and Ortega went ahead when they drew close. He came back in a short while. “He's in there. I counted two guards at the coach. Bronc and I can take them down, then you close in. We don't make a big ruckus, they won't know what's happening. There's a back door.”

“JD and Cole, take it. Remember, we need him alive, but bust his head if he gets tough. Alright?”

The men were ready.

“I'll show you the back way,” Ortega said as he and his brother prepared to go in and take out the guards.

In the darkness, Chet stood on his toes and tried to see the building that served as a whorehouse. No red lamp anyway. There were lights on inside and he could see the top of the coach parked before it.

“When we get in, there may be some bouncers inside the place.” Roamer stood beside him.

“We just need those guards took out, and then take the place,” Chet said.

Shawn laughed softly. “Be my first time in a house of ill repute, and for all the wrong reasons.”

“You'll get an education on this job,” Chet said. “Have eyes in the back of your head. If we get into a fight, cover our backs.”

“I can do that, sir.”

“Last resort, shoot the sumbitch.”

“I will, sir.”

“Let's go.”

Ortega was coming back. He waved for them. “Bronc is tying and gagging the guards. They were only boys. JD and Cole should be in back. Should we charge the front door and demand to know where he is?”

“Go.”

Guns in hand, they crossed the yard and Ortega hurried ahead. Nothing moved. Bronc joined them. They covered the ground to the door; Ortega tried the latch and the door opened, then he was inside. There were some screams of fright, but he told the women to be quiet. When Chet entered the parlor, only some scanty dressed young girls looked bug eyed at them.

“Watch them,” Chet said, leaving Shawn in charge. A little red-faced, he made them stand at the wall. The other members headed down the hall, where Ortega had an older woman by the arm talking to her in Spanish, obviously demanding she take him to the room.

With a boot, he smashed the door open, fired a shot, and ordered Montoya not to try for his gun again. The room was full of gun smoke, and Roamer moved to handcuff the buck-naked outlaw. A naked girl stood against the wall, screaming. Bronco silenced her and shoved clothes at her. In Spanish, he told her to get dressed.

Chet told Montoya to sit on the bed. They warned him if he made any move, they'd carry him out feet first.

The grim-faced big man had a killing look on his face. “What do you want?”

“The woman you hold and a pass to get out of Mexico.”

“I'll have you all killed on an ant hill.”

“You may not live to see sunrise, so quit your threats. We're as tough as you, and sitting here bare-assed, you'll be lucky if we don't castrate you.”

“You won't dare.”

“Keep talking. These men are cowboys. They can do it faster than you can blink. Now, how do we get word to your people to bring her out to us?”

“She will die in there.”

Chet grabbed him by the hair and jerked his face close to his. “You have two minutes to decide. After that, I'm turning a couple of guys loose on you that will make you cry.”

“Alright, alright. I can send my
Segundo
a letter.”

JD and Cole had joined them, and they dragged Montoya out of the smoky room. The whore and the woman who ran the place brought his clothes and then hurried away to the front. JD and Cole marched him into an office and watched him close as he dressed.

A bull-chested man with a hairy chest, he looked hard at the blank page Chet placed in front of him. They undid his right hand and held a cocked pistol to his head. Chet told him to write for his men to bring the rancher's wife out in exchange for him. To bring her out, and with no strings attached. To have her on a sound horse that did not buck. Not to follow them and that he would be turned loose at the border. Any action to charge them and Montoya would die instantly.

“Tell them at ten o'clock tomorrow she is to ride out and one of our men will meet her. No tricks from there to the border,” Chet told him.

He took Ortega aside. “Can you read his message?”

“Oh,
si
.”

“He may write some instructions for them.”

“I know. I can read it.”

Finally Montoya said, “There it is.”

Ortega read each word. When he neared the end of the note, he translated the outlaw's words out loud. “Don't do anything foolish that will upset these
gringos
. I am sure they will kill me.”

“We damn sure will.” Chet nodded toward Ortega. “How do we deliver it?”

“I will take a white flag and take it to his under-man named Valdez.”

Chet considered the man's offer. “I don't want you shot.”

“Put him on a horse on the hill behind me under a rifle barrel. They won't do anything but obey us.”

“Then tell them to bring her out on a good horse. We need to be ready to move right away,” Chet said. “Load the packhorses and meet us over there at dawn.”

JD spoke up. “Shawn, Cole, and I will get our things and meet you. Cole knows where it is.”

“Good, do that. We won't get much sleep, but we need to be on the move.” Chet was anxious, knowing Montoya's bunch might make quick plans to stop them. Lots of loose ends. Was the rancher's wife tough enough to stand the ride? He had no idea.

“You know anything about her?” he asked Roamer who had spoken to her husband.

“Her name is Burnett Higgins, but you already know that. She's twenty-eight. Much younger than her man. She's his second wife. They described her as five-six, medium build, brown hair.”

“No picture?” Chet asked.

“Why?”

“What if they send us another woman?”

“Hell, Chet, I never thought of it.”

“I hope they don't. Just thought of it.”

Roamer shook his head. “Now when she comes out, I am going to be jumpy. I hope it's her.”

They rode out under the stars. They had Montoya on Shawn's horse, and he rode back double with the others to get ready to leave when they got her. Chet had given JD money to buy a horse and saddle for Montoya when they came back. Ortega was sure the man would sell them a good mount. The two bound-up guards were made to ride double on a coach horse, so they couldn't go warn the gang.

Chet told them to be careful and join them as quick as they could. When they neared the outlaw's camp, they held back from being observed. The three prisoners seated on the ground were guarded and all in chains, and in leg irons that only let them take small steps, so they couldn't get away.

The two Morales brothers went to sleep, while Roamer and Chet sat guard. The two soldiers slept, but Montoya grumbled the whole time and threatened them.

“How did you
gringos
get down here? You have no authority in Mexico.”

“We're bounty hunters,” Chet said. “We have no badges.”

“Oh, shit, you are a big liar. Everyone in Mexico knows about your Force.”