The Buccaneers, page 12
“Good,” Jessie said. “Are there any others?”
Only three of the other gunmen from Brownsville volunteered, and Jessie tried to hide her disappointment. She paid the others off, including those that were wounded, and then she, Ki, and the rest of them gathered up the small herd and drove them south, deeper into Mexico, toward San Miguel.
The weather turned very hot and humid. The longhorns moved along well and the little herd made good time.
“How much farther?” Jessie asked their captive outlaw at the end of five days.
“Just another couple miles.”
“All right,” Jessie said. “We’re going to drive the herd in as if we stole them and intend to deliver and sell them to Lafitte.”
Allen raised his wrists, which were bound with rawhide. “Gonna look a little funny if I’m tied up like this. They know me, ma’am. If they see my wrists bound together, they’ll know that something fishy is going on.”
“All right,” Jessie said. She motioned to Ki, who cut the bonds. “But if you attempt to warn the buccaneers you’ll be the first to die.”
Allen nodded. “I know that.”
“Good. Just as long as you understand it,” Jessie said. “Let’s go.”
They were all tense as they approached the town of San Miguel. Jessie and the others kept the herd tightly together, and as they drew nearer, they saw huge cattle pens.
“Does it matter which ones we use?” Jessie asked.
“Nope,” Doug Allen said. “The way it’s done is that whoever rustles a herd just brings it down and drives it into a pen. Buyers will be along directly.”
“Good,” Jessie said. She signaled, indicating which pen she wanted the herd driven into.
Their approach and arrival attracted no attention whatsoever, telling Jessie that rustled cattle herds brought down from Texas were commonplace.
When the cattle were all penned and watered and Jessie had bought some grain from freighters who had immediately shown up, she was ready for whatever would happen next.
She sidled over to Allen, who was being watched closely by the samurai. “All right, what now?”
“Patience. Soon a buyer will come,” the outlaw explained. “Maybe a couple of ’em.”
Jessie nodded. Allen looked at her closely. “They aren’t going to like dealing with a woman. Maybe it’d be better if I dealt with ’em.”
“No,” Jessie said quickly. “I don’t trust you that much.”
Allen chuckled. “Actually you got no reason to, lady.”
“Watch him closely, Ki,” Jessie said as she moved aimlessly about, waiting for the first buyers.
She did not have long to wait. Within an hour, two men approached her with big smiles.
“Understand you’re the one that owns these cattle, miss.”
Jessie did not fail to notice the bold way their eyes raked her body. “They’re my cattle, all right,” she said evasively.
“How much you want?”
Jessie shrugged. She should have asked Allen what the typical price of cattle was, but now she would just bluff her way along.
“Five dollars a head.”
“That’s ridiculous!” one of the buyers exclaimed in a voice that sounded genuinely shocked.
The other buyer, hooking his thumbs into his suspenders, said, “Maybe you don’t understand things down here. This is Mexico and we don’t pay a hell of a lot for beef. Hides are worth more than the meat, and it don’t matter that your cattle are fat or not.”
Jessie looked the man right in the eye. “That’s not what I heard. I heard you load them on ships and send them down to Central and South America. I heard you make a big profit.”
The man blinked, cleared his throat self-importantly, and said, “We make a little money. That’s what it’s all about, ain’t it, lady?”
“Yes,” Jessie said. “That is what it’s all about and I intend to make a little money myself. Getting this herd didn’t come easy. Some pretty good men died on the north side of the Rio Grande River.”
“What the hell’s a woman like you doing in this kind of business?”
“That’s neither here nor there,” Jessie said. “What I want to know is are you going to pay five dollars a head?”
“Hell, no. I’ll pay three.”
“Four,” Jessie said.
“Nope.”
“All right,” Jessie said, “three. I’ve got five hundred head here, give or take a couple.”
“We’ll count ’em,” the man said. He looked to his partner. “Count ’em up and tell me what you read.”
A few minutes later the man came back. “It’s five hundred and eight,” he said.
The buyer wet the tip of his pencil, pulled out a little pad, and rapidly did some figures. “Comes to about fifteen hundred dollars,” he said after a moment.
“It comes to fifteen hundred and twenty-four dollars,” Jessie corrected, “and I want every penny.”
The man whistled softly. “You’re a tough woman to bargain with.”
“Bullshit,” Jessie said. “I imagine most people get five dollars.”
“Four fifty,” the man said with a wink as he counted out the money. “A first-time seller like you has got to expect to get skinned.”
Jessie took the money and deposited it in her jeans. “Well,” she said, looking around at Buck, Ki, Alice, and the rest, “I guess maybe we oughta just go into town and have ourselves something to eat and drink.”
One of the buyers frowned. “Miss,” he said, “this is a pretty rough town and you and that other gal are good-lookin’ women. If I was you I’d just take my money and make fast tracks on back across the Rio Grande.”
“We won’t do that,” Jessie said. “We came a long way; it’s been a hard drive. We intend to have a good feed. Some of the men are a mite thirsty, too.”
“You can say that again,” Tom growled.
“Suit yourself,” one of the buyers said with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. “I just thought I’d warn you that there is no law here in San Miguel, and everyone is on their own.”
“That’s about what we figured,” Jessie said.
She gathered up her men, and they mounted their horses and rode on into San Miguel, leaving the buyers with the cattle.
“You did that pretty well,” Allen said softly. “Now are you going to let me go?”
“Nope,” Jessie said. “You’d make a beeline straight to Luke Lafitte’s folks and tell them why we’re here in the first place.”
“Lafitte’s gone,” Allen said. “His ships aren’t resting in the harbor.”
Jessie had been afraid of this answer. “All right,” she said, “where is his hacienda?”
Allen turned and pointed to the south. “See that big hacienda down there on the point?”
“Yes.”
“That’s Lafitte’s place.”
Jessie, Ki, and the rest of them studied it closely. “All right,” she said. “After dark that’s where we’re going to go.”
Allen shook his head. “You’re just bound and determined to get yourself killed, aren’t you?”
Jessie said nothing. Her attention was diverted by a sight that turned her stomach. She saw six women chained to a long pole that was suspended between the shoulders of two black men. The sorry congregation was moving steadily down the street, and no one was paying the slightest bit of attention. The slave women’s eyes were cast toward the ground.
“What is that?” Jessie asked.
“Slaves,” the man said. “Mexican slaves. Maybe some of them are Apache. I don’t know—just slaves.”
“Slaves,” Jessie said, repeating the word, studying the women. “And they’ll be taken south along with the cattle?”
“Yeah, and sold just like the cattle.”
Jessie’s voice hardened. “Doesn’t it make you feel rotten to be a part of this?”
“There’d be slaves captured up in Mexico and in the Apache country and then brought down here and sold, whether or not I was a part of it,” Allen said defensively. “I don’t get the money for slaves. I never dealt with slaves. I just helped Coburn rustle cattle.”
“He murdered people or else took them as slaves! Don’t lie to me, damn you!”
Allen looked away, his facial expression bleak. It was all Jessie could do to ride her horse past the slaves without jumping down and trying to free them, and she knew that Ki, Alice, and Buck Williams felt the same way as she did. But, of course, they could do nothing except ride on and pretend not to notice or care.
When they were past the group, Allen said, “Over there is a cantina that serves decent food.”
“I’ve lost my appetite,” Jessie said as they dismounted and tied their horses at the rail.
She looked back up the street, but the slaves and their captors had vanished.
“Will those women be put on one of Lafitte’s ships?”
“Probably,” Allen said, unable to meet her accusing eyes.
“Then there are even more incentives for us to stop the buccaneers from this awful trade.”
Ki nodded, and so did Alice and Buck.
When they entered the cantina, they found it almost deserted. That was just fine as far as Jessie was concerned. They took a large table in the back where it was dim and cool, and then Jessie handed over to Buck the money she had received for the herd.
“This belongs to you and Alice,” she said, “and I promise you I’ll make up the difference after we return to Texas.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Buck said. “I’ve seen enough to know that this is where we ought to be and that Lafitte is a man that needs killing.”
“I know,” Jessie sighed. “Just seeing those enslaved women who will probably never see their families again makes me realize how inhuman some men become. It’s time we put an end to this on the Gulf Coast.”
Everyone nodded, and when food arrived, they ate in silence. Jessie was not a bit hungry, but she chewed her food thoroughly and got as much down as she could.
“We’ll wait until after dark,” she said, “and then we’ll pretend to ride out. When we get beyond sight of the town, we’ll hook around and come in behind Lafitte’s hacienda.”
“You think we can take it without gunfire?” Buck asked.
“I know we can,” Ki interrupted. “I don’t care how many sentries there are. By tomorrow morning we’ll be in control and not a soul in this town will know it.”
Alice nodded and so did her grandfather. Jessie said nothing, for she certainly did not need to be convinced. She had seen the samurai in action.
They spent a few hours drinking beer and tequila in the cantina and talking softly about this thing and that.
They had no idea when Lafitte would return, and even less idea of what would happen after he did. True, the odds seemed stacked against them, and yet they had gotten John Coburn using the element of surprise. Jessie was quite sure that if everything went well and the samurai were able to overpower the guards and gain an entry without arousing gunfire, they really would be in a position to surprise the buccaneer when he returned to his lair.
After it grew dark, Jessie nodded to her companions, and they left the cantina, each silent and somber, lost in the wondering of what tonight would bring and if they would see tomorrow’s dawn.
Chapter 15
They tied their horses in an arroyo where they could not be seen, and then Ki motioned everyone to gather around him.
“I will go in alone,” he said.
But Tom objected. “You’re going to need help. I’ll go with you. As long as I’m in this thing, I want to see it is done right.”
“I don’t need your help,” Ki said. “I prefer to do it—”
“I don’t give a damn what you prefer!” Tom growled. “If you fail, my life is on the line too. I’m going with you, samurai.”
Ki started to raise his hand, but Jessie shook her head. “No, let him go.”
The samurai accepted her decision and led Tom off into the night. Ki moved slowly toward the adobe walls, which appeared to be about seven feet tall. He had not yet seen a guard, but he was sure there were several posted, quite probably at the corners. Ki felt quite sure that Lafitte’s guards would not be very alert, given the unlikelihood of an attack. From all that Ki could determine, Luke Lafitte had ruled this pirate village of San Miguel for years without any serious rivals.
“Stay close,” Ki whispered.
Tom growled a surly reply, but he did stay close, and when they reached the walls, Ki moved along silently, looking for some crack or fissure that might assist him in climbing over the top. Finding none, he crouched down beside the wall with Tom.
“All right,” he whispered. “I want you to cup your hands and hoist me over the top.”
“Well, how the hell am I supposed to get in then?” Tom demanded.
“I’ll throw you a rope. Just stay down low and as soon as I find one, I’ll toss it over for you.”
“The hell with that! Why don’t you open the front gate and let me in?”
“No,” Ki said. “That would be ridiculous. Whoever was inside would be alerted.”
Tom wasn’t pleased, but since it was obvious that he was far too big a man for Ki to heave up over the top of the adobe wall, there seemed to be little choice.
“All right,” he said, lacing his fingers together and coming to his feet. He stooped over and Ki placed his foot in Tom’s hand.
“All right,” Ki said, “now!”
The burly man heaved with all his might, and Ki was propelled straight up into the air. Ki could have easily flown right over the top of the adobe wall, but he grabbed the upper edge and clung to it for a moment. Then he slipped down. He fell silently into the inner courtyard. There was still no sign of a sentry.
Ki crouched. He reached inside his tunic for a shuriken star blade, then began to move toward the corner of the compound, sure that that was where he would find his first sentry, because it was the spot nearest the gate.
The samurai’s reasoning was correct. In a few minutes he saw, sleeping on a parapet, a Mexican sentry with his gun propped up against the wall. Ki was pleased that he would not have to kill the man.
He reached for the sentry, fingers seeking the point on the upper part of the man’s shoulder. Ki squeezed, and his fingers cut off the flow of blood to the sentry’s brain. It was called atemi, and it was a very old and effective method of putting your opponent into a deep sleep. With the blood suddenly shut off from the brain, it went into a sort of coma.
Ki held the man’s shoulder for a good long while, and he actually could have killed the man had he continued to apply pressure. But he stopped when he was satisfied that this sentry would pose him no problems for the rest of the night. Then he glided silently along the parapet, hunting for other sentries.
It did not take him long to find two more. They were smoking cigarettes and talking. Ki was disappointed, knowing he had no choice but to kill or at least severely disable both men.
He flattened down on the parapet and began to edge forward. From his limited Spanish, he realized the two men were making ribald jokes about the women they had seduced. The sentries were animated and still laughing when Ki leaped up and slammed the edge of his hand like an axe down upon the first man’s neck. The neck made a small crunching sound, and the sentry died laughing.
Before his partner could even open his mouth to scream, Ki’s foot arced forward in a sweep lotus that caught the second man in the throat. There was a strangling sound. The sentry grabbed his throat, and Ki delivered a short, hard punch that caught him squarely between the eyes and knocked him unconscious. Ki caught the man and eased him down beside his companion. He mashed out a burning cigarette, then continued on around the parapet, intent on circling the entire compound.
It all took Ki less than ten minutes, and when he was satisfied that there were no more sentries, he dropped down to the courtyard, then sprinted to the front gate, which he unbarred.
Tom was waiting. “How many?” the big man asked.
“Three,” Ki said.
“And you killed them all?”
Ki ignored the question. “Come on, there are more inside sleeping.”
Tom drew his six-gun. “We’ll take care of them in a hell of a hurry.”
“No,” Ki said, grabbing the man’s muscular arm. “We have to do this in silence, remember? Otherwise we’ll wake up everyone in San Miguel and lose our element of surprise.”
“Yeah, okay, dammit,” Tom grumbled, holstering his six-gun. “Lead off!”
Ki led the way into the house. The front door was standing open, and as he crept along the dim hallways, every fiber of his body was alert.
They arrived at what Ki supposed was a bedroom. The samurai pushed the door open and peered inside. There was enough moonlight that he could see a couple sleeping together on the bed. Ki put his fingers to his lips, moved slowly over to the two of them, and then used atemi on both.
“What the hell did you do?” Tom asked in a hard whisper.
“I put them to sleep.”
“How?”
“Never mind,” the samurai said, moving out of the room and closing the door behind him. “Come along, let’s find the rest.”
If the samurai had had his way, he would have used atemi on every single member of the household. Unfortunately, however, in one bedroom a man was stirring about, and when they entered, he let out a shout and jumped for his six-gun. Before Ki could move, Tom’s knife came up and the big man lunged forward, the knife slicing upward toward his belly. There was a low, anguished scream as Tom gutted the man, then hurled him aside.
“You put them to sleep for a while,” he bragged to the samurai. “I put them asleep permanently.”
Ki turned away in disgust. It went against his grain to kill men needlessly. In the faint moonlight, he’d seen a bloodlust in Tom that made him very uneasy.
Within twenty minutes they had overpowered all the rest of the household, and thanks to Ki, no one else had died. Instead, they were all carried to one room, then bound, gagged, and locked inside where they could not sound an alarm.
