by Lou Cameron
Captain Gringo objected. ‘Not after you brush with the Costa Rican Guard, even if we’re all riding racehorses, Generale. They have internal lines of communication, including telegrapho. Even if you whip the first military unit we run into, they’ll wire ahead, and nothing moves faster than electricity. They’ll have someone, a lot of someone, waiting for us this side of the San Juan. Costa Rica is at peace with Nicaragua, sort of. So they’ll alert the guys you’re fighting to set up on the far side of the San Juan. There are only so many places we can cross that border river, and it would be a snap to cover every damned one of them.’
‘What a joy you are to have around, Captain Gringo. What is to prevent us from fighting our way through to the other side? We are muy macho and we have the machine gun, no?’
Captain Gringo took a deep breath, sighed, and said, ‘Generale, Robert E. Lee and the Army of Virginia would have a time punching through what’s sure to be waiting for you at the San Juan if you let the Costa Rican authorities even guess you’re wandering around down here. I thought your plan was to slip back into Nicaragua by surprise. Who’s going to be surprised if you stagger across the border shot to shit? That’s looking on the bright side. Frankly I doubt you’ll get through at all. But if you do, I can promise you heavy casualties and, no offense, this is a sort of small army to begin with, right?’
Across the fire Robles shouted, ‘Wrong! Once we get back to our own sacred soil, there will be hundreds of recruits waiting for to join us. What you see here, Yanqui, is but the cadre of an army of liberation!’
El Generale lit a smoke and said, ‘He’s young. I still need those mounts. I am still open to suggestion, Captain Gringo.’
‘What if you simply followed the higher and drier ridges north, avoiding trouble south of your border?’
‘On foot? It would take too long to get there. People are waiting to join us, as the major said, and the dry season is half over. It is most difficult to liberate Nicaragua in the rainy season.’
‘It’s better to be late than never. But, okay, what if we could get some horses in a less dramatic way?’
‘I am still listening.’
‘One of my adelitas, as you know, is Costa Rican. Suppose I ask her if she knows of any isolated horse rancho within easy reach of the escarpment and its tree cover?’
El Generale nodded and said, ‘Bueno. Ask her. I am not a violent person. But I mean to have mounts for my people. Tell her I heed at least two hundred, eh?’
Captain Gringo said he’d do that and got up to join Teresa in the latest shelter. This hut was a little ragged-assed, since they were getting above the palm line. But it was the dry season, so what the hell.
Teresa was already undressed for bed, albeit lying atop the covers as if she’d hoped he might turn in early. The moonlight through the holes in the brush roof above painted interesting patterns on her pale, naked skin. He got in beside her, doffing his hat and jacket but remaining in a seated position as he said, ‘We have to talk about saving your ass instead of enjoying it right now. So listen tight. I may be able to talk them into letting me take you and at least Gaston on a scouting expedition once we get up into horse country. We want our story to make sense, and you just never know when some wiseass might trip you up. So, for openers, do you know of a serious horse-breeding outfit near the edge of the high mesas?’
She said, ‘Sí, mine. My late husband left me a rancho such as you describe, not far from where the road from Limón to San José drops over the escarpment, Dick.’
‘Oh boy, that’s better than I could have hoped for. But remember you don’t own it. Not until we can get you there. You just know of the place, right?’
‘Oh, I see, we are going to trick these outlaws into letting us go. Do not worry. I know how to lie, if I must.’
‘I don’t doubt that. But tell me true, how many head of mules and horses do you have at that rancho, and more important, how many vaqueros and are they tough?’
She said, ‘I think we have three or four hundred horses and maybe fifty or sixty mules. Most running free and unbroken. My vaqueros are very tough. They have to be. People are always trying to steal horses, you see.’
‘I just heard that. How many guns and what sort of defenses will we have to work with?’
‘I have a dozen good men and, of course, the usual house servants who may not be worth as much in a fight. The compound is surrounded by a stucco wall. Waist-high in places and higher in others. I have a telephone too. Will that help?’
‘It will have to. There’s no way a dozen guys can hold out long against a hundred, and I don’t think El Generale would let me take the Maxim along on a recon patrol, so he’ll have that too. But, yeah, there’s a chance we could Alamo till help arrives. Verdugo’s a cut above the average guerrilla as a tactician. So he won’t want to hang around too long. I think we’ll go for it. I’ll be damned if I can see a better way.’
She sat up, clapped her hands, and said, ‘Oh, if you can get me to my own little casa and telephono, I can call my grandfather and tell him what that wicked Melina did too!’ He started to point out that Melina might have her own version of recent events, as well as a head on the pillow next to the old guy. But that was family business, once he got Teresa safely home, so he said that was a swell idea, and Teresa began to unbutton his shirt. Asking her why would have been a really stupid question, and he’d forgotten what a beautiful body she had, waking up with another woman that morning. So he helped her undress him and rolled into the welcoming saddle with no further ado.
This time Teresa responded as if she’d gotten used to the idea and liked it a lot. So she climaxed almost at once, and when he naturally kept going, moaned, ‘Oh, querido, is there no end to your lust? I do not wish for you to hurt yourself!’
He assured her that he was in no pain as he pounded her to glory again. This time they climaxed together, and as they went limp in each other’s arms, Teresa giggled and said, ‘I had no idea a woman could come twice in a row. But I love it. I wish you could come twice, Dick. The second time is fantastico!’
He started to ask who she thought she was kidding. Then, even as he started moving in her some more, he wondered why he’d want to ask a dumb thing like that. Obviously her late husband had been an uncaring jackrabbit, the poor idiot, or perhaps he, too, had been getting something on the side?
Teresa’s voice was warm but firm as she said, ‘That is enough, my tiger. I would like for to do it again too. But you know it is not good for one’s health to make love too often. Even once a night, every night, could injure your heart, and I do not wish for to lose you, eh?’
‘In other words, you’re sleepy?’
‘Sí, a little. It feels so good to fall asleep right after I have climaxed and after doing it so twice in a row …’
He dismounted gently, not wanting to wake her up, and as she rolled over on her side with a contented sigh, he covered her naked body and got his own dressed. He was still hot. So he could hardly wait to undress with Emesta in the other hut.
Getting there was more complicated than he’d expected. As he moved across the dark gap a throaty female voice called softly, ‘My, aren’t we busy this evening, Captain Gringo?’
It was Helena, top adelita of the outfit. He’d admired her from afar all day, since Helena was some dish. She was also the private property of El Generale in the flesh. So her flesh was decidedly off-limits!
She didn’t seem to have grasped this as she swayed toward him in the moonlight, long black hair unbound to frame her hard but beautiful face. The moonlight did wonders for her exposed breasts as well. She had a right to feel proud of her great knockers, he supposed, but wasn’t a lady supposed to keep her kimono a little less open in public?
Helena must not have thought the moonlit corner of the camp was all that public. She reached thoughtfully for the wilted lapel of his jacket as she asked him, ‘For why do you keep your adelitas in separate huts, hombre? Do you not enjoy orgies? I know I/ certainly enjoy o
rgies!’
He chose his words carefully as he replied, ‘I’m sure everyone does. Does my commanding officer know we’re having this conversation?’
She laughed lewdly and replied, ‘Not if we do not tell him. He is asleep at the moment, with his bottle. Sometimes I feel most jealous of that bottle. If you had an adelita like me, would you prefer to drink yourself to sleep, Captain Gringo?’
‘You know you’re a desirable woman, and you know this conversation could get us both killed.’
‘Sí. If one must die, why not enjoy oneself first? I do not intend to tell him about us, querido. Do you?’
He said, ‘So far I have nothing to report. Is this a test, Helena?’
‘A test? A test of what? I have not seen you with your pants off yet.’
He forced a chuckle and said, ‘Come on, you know what I’m talking about. El Generale sent you to find out whether I would betray him or not. I’m not going to say anything. You can tell him I know my place in his command, right?’
She looked incredulous and asked, ‘Are you afraid that this is a trick, for to get you in trouble, Dick?’
‘Such things have been known to happen. I find it hard to believe that any man would prefer even Four Star Calvados to a woman as lovely as you, no offense.’
She preened in the moonlight and said, ‘None taken. I am glad at least one good-looking man finds me lovely. I know I am a woman of some beauty, and a woman with needs as well. If there was some way I could assure you it was safe, what would you do about it?’
He laughed and said, ‘You know damned well what I’d do about it. You know I want you. I’m a man, not a fence post. But I want to go on living, too, and I know if you were mine, I’d kill any man who even winked at you. So I’d better not wink. It’s been nice talking to you, Helena.’
‘Perhaps we shall talk about it another time, eh, once you get used to your new surroundings?’
He said maybe and got out of there before someone spotted him. A few moments later Emesta had no idea why he entered her with such a raging erection. But she didn’t seem to mind at all.
The next morning went much the same. It felt funny to be tired and bored but worried shitless at the same time. Captain Gringo was used to soldiering. So he was the first one to come unstuck when, as they were crossing an open, gentle slope, a rifle squibbed from the line of trees ahead and a nearby guerrilla spun to the grass like a falling leaf!
Captain Gringo still had the Maxim on his shoulder so Teresa could ride. He let go the mule’s lead and punched it in the muzzle to send it back into the trees, as Teresa hung on, screaming blue murder. Others were screaming all around as some ran and some fell while the line of trees up ahead crackled death at them. Captain Gringo didn’t worry about what anyone else was doing. He knew what he had to do.
He dropped to his gut in the grass with the Maxim, threw the arming lever, and proceeded to throw lead back as long as the belt would last. As his weapon choked on the end of the first belt, a hand tapped his shoulder and he reached for the second belt, thinking it was Gaston. It was Emesta. She’d crawled to him in the grass with the ammo. He snapped the second belt in and took time to tell her, ‘Bueno. Now get the fuck out of here, muchacha!’
‘I am your loader, no?’ she replied.
He didn’t answer. She couldn’t have heard him above the roar of his automatic fire. He couldn’t see what he was shooting at. He lost his sombrero to a lucky or well-aimed round and rolled over a couple of times in the grass to get away from his own rising gunsmoke. As Emesta crawled after him he yelled, ‘No, don’t follow me, damn it!’ But she did and gasped, ‘Oh!’ when something spanked her behind. She wasn’t hit bad, and by the time she caught up with him he was grateful for the ammo she’d brought as well. He snapped in another belt and fired a short burst before he asked her how bad it was. Emesta patted herself on the ass and said, ‘Graze. I feel no blood.’
He said, ‘Keep your ass down next time. It’s time to move again!’ They did. Even Emesta was surprised when he rolled over her, Maxim and all. So the guys shooting at his smoke from the trees missed him by yards, and better yet, the guy doing most of the shooting over that way now, was firing from one smoke cloud like the asshole he was. Captain Gringo taught him not to do that by firing a full burst into his position, and after that he didn’t fire at all.
By this time the others on his side were all under cover and returning the fire pretty good. So Captain Gringo told Emesta, ‘I think we’d best start crawling ass-backwards. You go first and keep that sweet ass down!’
She did. He did the same. So a few moments later they re-joined El Generale behind a fallen log. Verdugo said, ‘I wish I had a medal for to give you. That was close, no?’
‘That was close, yes. Where’s Gaston?’
‘He took some of the muchachos around the clearing to see if he could flank them. He did so before I could give the order. If he gets killed, I will shoot him for insubordination. If it works, he gets a medal, if those other guys have any medals. Who do you suppose they are?’
‘Don’t know. Probably bandits or Indians. Regulars should have challenged us before they opened up like that.’
‘Es verdad. Your tactic worked well. I confess I almost shit my pants as my people began to run in circles out there. But we only lost four hombres and a mujer, and now we are in good shape, eh?’
The mention of a female casualty spun Captain Gringo’s head around fast. But he spotted Teresa not far away, enjoying a digging contest with Helena. It was surprising how ladies could make soft dirt fly with their bare hands.
His other adelita was, of course, still sprawled beside him. He told her to lift her skirts and let him see how badly she’d been hit. She protested, ‘I have no pantaloons on, Dick!’ So he reached up her skirt and, sure enough, she was bare-assed. She giggled as he explored her naked buttocks, then winced when his fingers got to what felt like one hell of a bee sting. He ran his fingers over it, anyway, and said, ‘You were lucky. Next time I tell you to stay put, don’t try to be so brave.’
El Generale nodded approvingly and said, ‘I saw what you did out there, Emesta. Next time someone calls you a sissy girl, just send him to me.’
She blushed becomingly and said she’d only been doing her duty. Verdugo laughed and told Captain Gringo, ‘She is much woman, and you say you need two?’
Before the American had to answer that, Major Robles crawled over to join them, sobbing, ‘I am out of ammunition! We have to get out of this exposed position, Generale!’
Verdugo snorted in disgust and told him to for Chrissake go back and ask the women for more bullets. Then Captain Gringo shouted, ‘Cease fire, damn it!’ as something white waved from the line of trees up the slope. Verdugo frowned and demanded, ‘For why do we not get to shoot on their coward’s flag? Did they extend us military courtesy just now?’
‘That’s not a truce flag, sir. It’s Gaston’s white planters’ hat.’
‘Oh, we do not wish to shoot him. Let us see what he has to report.’
After waiting until the shooting stopped everywhere, Gaston stepped out of cover and casually crossed the clearing as Captain Gringo and the others rose to greet him. The Frenchman called out, ‘Eh bien, they used to be bandits. We put thirty-three men and a very pretty woman on the ground. Some may have gotten away. Not many of the men. They were strung out like beads along the line of trees when we took them on the flank.’
By now the guerrillas Gaston had led were coming in as well. One chortled, saying, ‘It was like rolling up a line of sitting ducks, Generale! This little Frenchman knows his business!’
‘Merde alors, I could have told you that,’ said Gaston modestly.
So in the end the profits and losses came out in Verdugo’s favor. He’d lost four fighters and doubtless a good lay. In return he had more ammunition than he’d started with and, of course, the money found on the dead. There were no wounded. There never were in guerrilla fighting. Since the American .30-
30 was preferred by almost everyone with a rifle in Latin America, Captain Gringo had plenty of fresh rounds to thread into his exhausted machine gun belts. Or, rather, to let Emesta do so. She said she had to do something with her hands while her ass recovered.
El Generale didn’t have to be told how unwise it could be to advance or stay put until they knew more about the enemy casualty figures and possible future plans. The pragmatic Verdugo ordered them to pull back and move south a few miles before they dug in in thick jungle cover for now. Knowing they might be there awhile, the guerrillas made better shelters and smaller fires than usual. No fires at all before sunset, of course, since smoke rising above the forest canopy could draw all sorts of pests.
It was after sunset and a relaxed evening meal that Major Robles got silly again. Captain Gringo was seated near Tobasca’s cook fire with Gaston when Robles joined them. The fat redhead was there, of course, but Emesta was nursing her bruised behind in her new hut, and Teresa had said something about helping her. It was just as well. Robles had been drinking and seemed to be spoiling for more trouble. He gruffly ordered Tobasca to pour him some coffee. When she’d done so, he threw it in the fire and said, ‘This tastes like shit. Or could it be the coffee is all right and I am just smelling shit? What do you say, Captain Gringo? Whose shit do I smell around here, eh?’
Since Robles was still on his feet, Captain Gringo stood up before he replied, ‘I don’t know. Have you changed your pants since that firefight this afternoon?’
‘What do you mean by that, Yanqui?’
‘Anything you want it to mean, muchacho.’
Others were listening now, and Robles knew it. He snapped, ‘You call me a little boy? For why do you call me a little boy, Yanqui?’
‘Because you’re acting like one. You seem to want to call me a Yanqui, which I am. So isn’t it fair to call you what you are instead of by your rank?’
Other men were grinning now. Worse yet, Helena and some other adelitas had drifted over to watch the show. So Robles stuck out his chest and said, ‘You think you are so big because you know how to fire a machine gun. I’ll have you know I fired my own gun many times this afternoon too!’
