by Lou Cameron
“Well, I’m sort of relieved to suspect it wasn’t to steal our boots.”
“I prefer my boots custom-made. I like to have money for other luxuries as well. So you see, we are both after the same thing.”
“We are?” Captain Gringo frowned, still in the dark.
El Chino chuckled and said, “They told me you played poker as well as lone-wolf. Bueno, I admire a man who is serious about money. We never had enough when I was growing up.” He reached out to place a casual hand in his desk decoration’s skirted lap as he added, “With money, and the power money brings with it, one can have anything one wants. Ask Estralita, here.”
The big buxom brunette said, “Es verdad,” and pulled up her skirt to put El Chino’s skinny brown hand between her naked thighs. He fondled her fuzz absently as he told Captain Gringo, “Enough of this fencing with words. Are you two in with me or not?”
Captain Gringo tried to keep his eyes out of Estralita’s exposed lap as he said, “We might be if we knew what you were talking about. I don’t think it could be your adelita. But I don’t see anything else around here I’d want in on.”
El Chino laughed, or at least sort of cackled, and said, “You can have some of this too, if that is your price.”
The brunette looked startled and pouted. “Oh Jefe, what kind of a muchacha do you think I am?”
The old man removed his hand from her snatch and wiped it on her skirt as he replied, “Any kind of a muchacha I wish for you to be, of course. If I require you to fuck my dog, you will fuck my dog, no?”
“But, Jefe, you do not have a dog!”
“That is unimportant. If I want for you to fuck a dog, I shall send for one and you will fuck it. Meanwhile, get out of here for now. We have business for to discuss, and men can’t talk sense with hard-ons.”
The big brunette sighed, got off the desk and replaced her butt with the big black sombrero before sulking out, muttering something about not listening to her momma.
El Chino told the guard in the doorway to get lost, too. The younger and much bigger guerrilla objected, “But, Jefe, there are two of them, and El Repollo may have failed for to mention they still have their guns on under those jackets!”
The old man snorted in disgust and said, “Leave us, damn the milk of your mother! Do I look like a man who does not know how to look out for himself?”
The guard shrugged, stepped out, and closed the door behind the soldiers of fortune. El Chino said, “Bueno. Don’t get ideas. I have a forty-five in my lap and my men are all around out there.”
Captain Gringo laughed easily and said, “El Repollo told us this would be a friendly visit. We had our chance to shoot it out with you guys long before we got here.”
El Chino said, “No, you didn’t. When I heard you were after the money, too, I sent enough men for to handle even you, Captain Gringo!”
“We were wondering about that. Could we cut all this bullshit and get to the point?”
Gaston added, “Oui, despite all the dramatiques, we have no idea what you are talking about. But since you just mentioned money, I assure you that you have our undivided attention!”
El Chino looked disgusted and said, “We still have to mince words? Very well, to show you how useless it is to attempt it on your own, I shall begin at the beginning. I know who you are. You are Ricardo Walker, also and better known as Captain Gringo; and you my innocent French friend, are the notorious Gaston Verrier. You are both wanted in more places, for more crimes, then even I am! Do you deny this?”
Gaston said, “You would know your own history better than we would. Mais this unruly child and I have made some noise in our travels that seems to have upset some people.”
El Chino said, “So now we find you here, in the crown colony of Mission Bay, as the British are in the process of evacuating it. I suppose you are going to tell me, next, you just jumped ship to get tattooed? You are both wanted by the British government. You never would have risked your heads in a British colony unless you had a damned good reason!”
“That’s true,” said Captain Gringo—honestly enough, when one thought about it.
So El Chino leaned back and said, “Now we are getting someplace. Like us, you somehow learned of the gold bullion and specie the colonial authorities kept here on hand and will keep here on hand until they complete their evacuation, no?”
Captain Gringo knew the old rogue would never believe him if he said the idea had never occurred to him before. So he nodded and said, “Right. We heard aboard the ship about the Brits giving this colony back to the Indians. So, yeah, we sneaked ashore to see if there was any chance to pick up loose change in the confusion. But the damned boat left without us; and between you and me, we don’t know where the hell they have the colonial funds right now.”
El Chino said, “I do. Across the river in the vaults of the government house. It was there all the time. We hoped to find at least some money in the bank here in Gilead. But they’d cleaned it out before we arrived. Someone must have told them we were coming for to take official possession for Nicaragua, and if I find out who—”
“Don’t look at us,” Captain Gringo cut in as Gaston added: “Oui, we only arrived a few short hours ago. Besides, even a Protestant banker may have guessed some, ah, patriots might show up before the official transfer of the property to its former owners, hein?”
El Chino brushed at his face if Gaston’s words were flies and said, “It is not important. The money is all on the wrong side of the river. The overly tidy English left nothing worth looting on this side. Once they have transportation arranged for the Zion settlement, they mean to leave nothing for us on the other side of the river, either—and I ask you, is this just payment for the years they held this Nicaraguan land unlawfully?”
Gaston soothed, “Mais non, they have always had a reputation as poor tippers. May one ask how long the trés sneaky English intend to hold out, south of the river?”
El Chino said, “They plan for to evacuate in stages, women and children first for some strange reason. Do I look like a man who does not like women and children? They know we are here, of course. My scouts tell me they’ve mounted their own outposts just across the river. But getting back to more important matters, I have been assured the colonial funds, along with the flag, records and so forth, will be leaving last. The British have only so many merchant vessels charted for to take out their colonists and their belongings. Some few have already left. Most are still there. We have to take Zion before the next convoy arrives.”
It would have been stupid to ask a self-glorified bandit why he wanted to occupy a town before they even had a chance to remove the furniture. So Captain Gringo asked, “Wouldn’t it be smarter to let them evacuate most of the noncombatants, Jefe?”
El Chino looked pleased to be called “Chief,” but not at all pleased with the suggestion. He asked, “Would you like to attack British constabulary who have a clear field of fire and only their own hides to worry about? They told me you two were professional soldiers, damn it!”
Captain Gringo growled, “We are. That’s why women and kids in the way seem, well, for one thing, in the way. Firefights can get complicated enough when you know who to aim at on the other side.”
El Chino said, “I fail to see what is so complicated about it. One aims at everybody on the other side, of course! They tell me you are an ace machine gunner, Captain Gringo, and that you, Gaston, are an old artilleryman who can drop a shell in a barrel from five kilometers away. Es verdad?”
Gaston shrugged modestly and said, “I only promise results at three kilometers, and I prefer no children in the barrel at the time.”
El Chino said, “If they do not wish for to see noncombatants hurt, they had better avoid combat with me, then! I have four new Maxims, and my men have carbines that fire the same ammunition. How does that sound to you, Caballeros?”
Captain Gringo said, “Not so hot. The Brits are sure to have at least some automatic weapons—and guys who’
ve been trained to use them better than your guys, no offense.”
El Chino nodded soberly and said, “That is for why I was so pleased to hear the two of you were in town. There is only a handful of Royal Marines to the south, posted for to guard the Royal Governor. Most of their forces will be mere policia, more accustomed to fighting with nightsticks than rifles, see?”
“What about old vets?”
“Vets? What vets? Nobody told me anything about vets, and what is a vet in the first place?”
“Ex-army, navy, or worse yet, Royal Marines,” said Captain Gringo, explaining further: “When guys get out of the British military services, they tend to go out to the colonies a lot; and if there’s one thing British colonial policy has produced in this century, it’s old vets of more wars than you could shake a stick at. Old Queen Vickie’s had her proper cockneys swapping rounds with everyone from Afghans to Zulu since before even you were born, Jefe, and some cockneys grow up sort of tough to begin with. You have to figure on at least half the able-bodied civilians on the other side to be pretty good in a scrap.”
“Bah, half of them are women and children!”
“That’s what I just said. Don’t bank on every female lime-juicer to throw nothing but tea crumpets at you, either. Lots of girls from the horsey set shoot grouse when the fox is out of season.”
Gaston said, “We still have not discussed artillery, my bloodthirsty children. There is always at least one field gun in every British port of call. They have this odd habit of shooting at the sunset with it when not saluting ships and all that rot the English seem to enjoy. Did I hear mention of artillery on this side of the river, just now?” El Chino shifted in his seat uncomfortably and said, “It is on the way. I just sent a heavy combat patrol for to capture an outpost of the Liberales, over to the west. It should be arriving any moment now.”
“But you don’t have even one big gun right now?” Captain Gringo insisted, groping for some damned way to get the old bandit to reconsider his options. He didn’t owe the lime-juicers on the south side of the river anything, and they could probably fight off what amounted to untrained infantry in any case, but the idea of women and children anywhere near a serious firefight made him want to puke.
El Chino seemed more upset about losing his own unwashed and older boys. He scowled down at the desktop and said, “We will have artillery when it is time for to move. Meanwhile, now that you two have joined my army of liberation, we had better see about rations and quarters for you, no?”
Captain Gringo just wanted to get out of there before he lost his temper. But Gaston had to ask, “Eh bien, but what about pay in this man’s species of army, Mon Generale?”
El Chino had no sense of humor. He scowled and answered, “Pay? Pay? You take me for a fool who pays money to men when they are not fighting for me? I arm my people. I feed my people. I share the loot they win for me with my people. Is not that pay enough for an hombre who does not squat down for to piss?”
Before either of them could tell El Chino what they thought of his all-too-common financial views, Estralita came back in to announce, “Your banquero just sent a runner to ask for why you are keeping him waiting, Jefe. You have an afternoon appointment with him, remember?”
El Chino scowled and snapped, “Of course I remember. Do I look absent minded? La Siesta will not end for at least another half hour. Who ever heard of keeping business appointments during La Siesta? The miser has no soul.”
Estralita shrugged and started to leave; but El Chino told her, “Wait. These hombres are with us. So see that they have something for to eat, someplace for to sleep and somebody for to sleep with. Tell the others nobody but me is allowed to pick on them.”
The buxom brunette nodded but asked, “What should I tell that runner?” And the old man answered, “Nada. By the time he could get back, La Siesta will be over in any case. Let El Banquero sweat a few momentos. It will be good for his character. What are you waiting for, damn it? Did I not just give you orders regarding these two hombres?”
Estralita told Captain Gringo and Gaston to follow her. So they did. She led them outside and took off across the schoolyard ahead of them, not looking back, as if she didn’t give a damn either way.
They’d noticed the campesina girl’s Spanish was uncultivated and had her figured as illiterate. So Gaston assumed her English had to be even lousier and muttered, “I have admired short bullies, and I detest a man who lies just for practice. Put them together, and merde alors, one begins to pine for fresher air. The smell of fish around here is overwhelming, and I am not speaking of our unwashed guide. I am speaking of the fish of Denmark!”
Captain Gringo had noticed less than an hour before that some barefoot campesinas spoke English. So he told Gaston to knock it off and just go along with the gag, for now.
Estralita led them down a side street too narrow for easy traffic and too wide for decent shade. As she stopped and turned in front of a larger corrugated sheet iron structure, a tiny whistle tooted in the middle distance and Captain Gringo muttered, “What the hell?” as he glanced up to see puffs of oily black smoke above the rooftops down the street.
Estralita said, “You are not supposed to go down that way. It is a military secret that we have the railroad running again. Come inside. I shall issue you your rations now.”
They congratulated her on how well she kept military secrets and followed her into what seemed to be some sort of warehouse they doubted the guerrillas had built.
Bales, crates and gunnysacks were stacked all around in a slipshod way. Captain Gringo spotted some crates in a corner he’d last seen being unloaded from the SS Trinidad, but didn’t comment on them. Estralita patted a pile of sacks as if it were a pony and said, “Most of this is cornmeal and beans. There may be some coffee in the pile. Our general has commandeered all the supplies we could possibly use from the local pobrecitos. So help yourself to such food as you require. You can recruit your own women for to cook it for you, and when you wish for to bed down, just go into any house none of our other muchachos have taken over and make yourselves at home. There are plenty of empty houses in this barrio now. But if you see one you like and someone is still dwelling there, just tell them to get out and I am sure they will.”
Captain Gringo said he was sure they would, too. Then he asked her if they were free to choose local girls as adelitas; and Estralita replied, “Of course. Mess with a woman one of our soldados has already chosen and he will try for to kill you. But why fight over women when there are so many to go around, eh?”
“I get the picture. But I’ll bet by now all the really good-looking women have been taken, eh? I mean no disrespect to your own soldado, but I have to admit he knows how to pick ’em.”
For the first time since they’d seen her, the big tough broad smiled. She even fluttered her lashes. But she said, “I must get back, before he suspects me of flirting with younger hombres.” She moved to the doorway again, but turned in it to add with an injured expression, “It is not true I fuck dogs. I do not even have a cat. I used to have a cat, but El Chino shot it when it refused to come to him.”
Captain Gringo said he was sure sorry the little tyrant didn’t know how to treat a lady’s pussy; then Estralita left, smiling sort of Mona Lisa. As soon as they were alone, Gaston laughed incredulously and said, “Merde alors, not even a dirty old man like me would risk going sloppiness of seconds to that even dirtier one the poor child sleeps with! Is it not trés obvious to you the old bandit suffers from syphilis of the brain, Dick?”
Captain Gringo moved closer to the doorway to make sure nobody was skulking around outside before he growled, “He’s not as dumb as she is. But he doesn’t add up as what he says he is, either. He has to be older than you, Gaston; and despite the times I’ve had to call you a dumb bastard, you didn’t get that old blustering like a bully ten feet tall for no sensible reason. I give El Chino a ‘B-plus’ on peasant cunning. He doesn’t rate ‘D-minus’ as a bandit leader.”
“I would not rate his leadership skills that high,” said Gaston, who’d been in more outfits in his time. Then he said, “Mais if the petty martinet is not what he claims to be, what do you think he really is, Dick?”
Captain Gringo said flatly, “A front man. El Chino’s an old con man, not an old guerrilla. He has to be over sixty, and a real halfway successful Nicaraguan bullyboy who’d managed to stay alive that long would be a local legend by this time. We’ve passed through Nicaragua a lot, and tangled with some real tough Nicaraguan cookies, but do you remember anyone singing songs about El Chino?”
“I agree there seem to be more wheels within the cuckoo clock than any cuckoo we have met so far has mentioned. But this girl at least seems convinced El chino is her adorable Jefe, non?”
“Maybe she and the others aren’t as smart as you and me. A front man’s supposed to convince everyone he’s in command. Did you pick up on that bit about El Chino having an appointment with his banker!”
“Oui, but if a guerrilla can call himself a Chinaman, or a cabbage, simple logique would indicate there is no rule forbidding one to call himself El Banquero, non?”
“Non. When Estralita came in she didn’t tell the old goat a guy called El Banquero wanted to see him. She said your banker.”
“But Dick, we have been assured by both sides the English branch banks on this side of the river have decamped to the south side avec all their money!”
“Sure. If there was any money on this side of the river to steal, these ragged-ass guerrillas would have stolen it and lit out by now. But it may be harder to steal the checking account of a guy with international credit, and did you notice El Banquero didn’t seem to notice it was siesta time!”
Gaston nodded soberly and said, “Oui! No Latin banker would even wonder why business was slow between, say, noon and three or four in the afternoon in Latin America. But the British have always tended to ignore local custom and—Dick, this simply does not add up at all! El Chino was just making dire threats about the colonial funds in the Zion settlement to the south, and he sounded as if he meant what he said about women and children!”
