by Lou Cameron
She said in that case she’d better get back to work herself, and threatened to French him to death once they were back out to sea again. He didn’t answer. That usually worked with most dames. But Esperanza had been one smart dame before they’d ever met, and they’d met a lot, in bed and out, since then. She raised an eyebrow and said, “So? You intend to stay ashore with the guns, Dick? I noticed the missing button on that blonde puta’s shirt when she signed for Garcia’s guns just now.’’
He said, “Don’t be silly. She’s a married woman.” Which was true enough, in a way. Esperanza pouted and demanded, “In that case, for why do you wish for to stay with her instead of me, eh?”
He said, “Somebody has to. I don’t want them to just run off and leave all those goodies for the Dons. If I can’t find a way to deliver them to the main rebel army, the least I can do is hide ’em good. I told ’em to lug everything up into the trees for now. But that’s not my idea of a safe hiding place. Sooner or later some Spanish patrol is going to come looking for those others. Nopalita’s people have buried ’em pretty good in the sand, but there’s still plenty of sign to read and we can’t cover it all. So once they trace their missing patrol this far, they’re sure to fan out and look under every rock.”
“You want to lay that blonde,” Esperanza cut in with the illogical logic few cheating husbands have ever been able to get around. He laughed easily and said, “Have it your way. She might be worth a war with Spain that nobody’s offered to pay me for, even if she is sort of skinny.”
Esperanza laughed despite herself and said, “Es verdad, it would kill her to have anything as big as you between her skinny schoolgirl hips. Go ahead and screw her. Get splinters in your balls when her bones shatter. It will serve you both right.”
He laughed, kissed her, and went back to work.
Later that night, in the rebel camp, he recalled Esperanza’s grim warning in the darkness. Nopalita asked what was so funny. He kissed her again and assured her, “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at me.” So she told him to cut the comedy and let her get on top if he was too tired to move it right, for God’s sake. He was able to move it right, for the little blonde was as tight as Esperanza had warned she might be between her slender horsewoman’s hips. But so far, no matter how hard he pounded her, nothing broke, and Nopalita said she liked it.
But there was more to joining a guerrilla band than shacking up with the leader. That part had been easy. Nopalita had simply crawled in his bedroll with him after dark and suggested that if he was to be second in command, there was no sense acting like strangers. The hard part was wondering how the others were going to take it. Some of the other men had lost their adelitas in the stampede to safety, and they all had some seniority on him, as far as this outfit went.
At midnight he eased out of the sleeping bag to relieve Gaston as officer of the guard. He found the little Frenchman seated on a log near the ruby remains of the cook fire they’d risked earlier that evening among the pines. He sat down beside Gaston and said, “I know. It’s never smart to mess with the women in a strange Hispanic crowd. It wasn’t my idea.”
Gaston shrugged and replied, “Merde alors, anyone could see that. She was making the eyes of goo-goo at you even before we got the last of the guns ashore. So far nobody in her band seems to have taken it personal. Mais of course a mestizo avec a knife hardly ever tells you just where in your back he intends to plant it. I have pickets out all around and a lookout atop the hill in a tree. I feel it safe to assume they are alert. They have yet to recover from the full effects of waking up in another camp to the sounds of gunshots and considerable screaming. I have been straining my weary old brains on more vital matters than your sex life or the discipline of this temporary camp.”
Captain Gringo fished out a claro, lit up, and told Gaston to shoot. Gaston said, “We have more to shoot with than we have shooters to shoot. Just down the slope reposes the arms and ammunition for an army. My bones still ache every time I consider how much work it was to get it this far from the water’s edge, and we are not more than a mile from where you shot up their first but no doubt hardly the last patrol.”
“Yeah, we’re really going to have to get some transportation.”
“Merde alors, you manic furniture-mover, to move such a mass any distance would require the services of a railroad. A few boxcars might hold all that heavy merde. Don’t expect me or anyone else around here to carry it!”
Captain Gringo frowned thoughtfully and said, “You know, we could load it all aboard a few railroad cars, and isn’t there a railroad running east and west the length of Cuba?’’
Gaston said, “Oui. The Spanish Army uses the line from Havana to Santiago regularly. How else did you suppose they manage to flank our adorable guerrillas so often avec heavy artillery?’’
Captain Gringo blew a thoughtful smoke ring and observed, “It seems a shame they should have that advantage all to themselves. How far inland is that railroad, Gaston?’’
“Sacré bleu, you must have caught something from that blonde already! Your brains have just turned to pus! The Spanish National Railway lies a good ten or twenty miles inland, you dreamer!’’
“Come on, Gaston. Ten miles is a long way from twenty miles. Can’t you do better than that?’’
“Mais non. Do I look like a railroad conductor? I know the line is there because I rode it as a passenger some time before His Most Catholic Majesty was born. The one they had before was a species of asshole as well, but at least the Spanish court had more control over the lunatics they sent to manage Cuba for them in the old days of goodness.’’
Captain Gringo said, “Never mind the history lesson. Tell me about the railroad. Was it double- or single-track? Does the telegraph line and service road follow it? What about tunnels and bridges?’’
Gaston thought and said, “It was mostly singleness of track in open country. I recall some trackside poles and dusty lanes here and there. To be frank, I was not paying attention to any scenery I did not wish to sit next to. Mais I got the impression we were following the high ground along the inland spine of this long, reptilian island. I did not notice any views of the sea between Santiago and Cuba. If you are considering a repeat performance of our railroading adventure in Mexico that time, forget it. The Cuban line is très primitive, avec few sidings and no alternate tracks one can play the hiding of seek on, hein?”
Captain Gringo shrugged and said, “We’d have to get all the stuff over to the line and aboard a train before we could even think about the amusing parts. The Dons are sure to have their only east-west rail and wire communications heavily guarded right now in any case. Maybe we should consider what Mohammed did with that mountain. If we can’t get the guns to Garcia, maybe we can lead Garcia to the guns.”
Gaston sighed and said, “You are daydreaming, even if it is a bit dark at the moment, Dick. If Garcia had the strength to carve his way this far through the Spanish Army he would not need the guns we have here. Aside from that, how long do you think we can keep them, even here? We are at least a hundred miles behind the Spanish lines!”
Captain Gringo shrugged and said, “We know that. They might not know that yet. You’d better get some sleep. With luck, we won’t have anything to worry about before sunrise.”
Gaston got up and wandered off, muttering to himself. Captain Gringo picked up the bull’s-eye lantern the Frenchman had left, opened the shutter to cast a little light on the subject, and began to make his rounds. He found all the pickets awake and saw they were all where they’d been posted around the camp. Most were still politely reserved with him, as Hispanic peasants tended to be with people they hadn’t decided about yet. It was safe to assume the ones who were more openly friendly had made up their minds and would either remain that way or wait until they were ready to make their moves. He told them all to keep up the good work and legged it to the crest of the ridge. He climbed a dead pine for an even better view. But there was nothing much to view. The mo
on was down. The tropic stars looked too bright to be real but did not, in fact, cast enough light to matter. The sea to the south was invisible, save for where offshore patrol boats swept their searchlights across the ink-black water. There was one distant pinpoint of light to landward. It appeared to be a lamp, not moving, at least five miles off to the northwest. He climbed back down, found the lookout again, and asked him if he had any ideas about that distant light.
The guerrilla nodded and said, “Sí, is a cattle rancho, I think. At sunset one could see wood smoke rising from that same direction. Is open range to the north. When they move, one can make out distant cattle. No riders since we have been camped here. The Spanish are in the habit of commandeering horses as they march through a province. Is just as well. If any vaqueros we did not know passed this way, we would have to shoot them, no?”
Captain Gringo said, “Not without talking to them first, if possible. Guerrillas do better when the local population’s on their side. Any Cuban cowpunchers who’ve been thinking about becoming Spanish cavalry should have joined up by now, see?”
The guerrilla didn’t argue. Captain Gringo told him to carry on and trudged downhill to where they’d piled the cargo from the schooner. It was still there. All of it. Ten tons was more impressive to look at than to say. As he swept the beam of his bull’s-eye over the crates, he saw the idea of burying them was out of the question too. It would take as long to dig a hole as big as the hold of La Nombre Nada as it would to carry the whole mess back down to the beach and ... hide it in the shallows? The guns were packed in heavy grease. The ammo was self-contained and coated with beeswax. The medical supplies that mattered should be in waterproof bottles ... and the Caribbean was warm and salty.
There had to be a better way. If even a third of the rounds wound up corroded, they could get an army in a firefight in a hell of a mess. He’d had to fire machine guns with waterlogged ammo belts in the past. He’d once lost a trooper to a hang-fire when the poor slob opened the bolt to eject a dud round and had it go off in his face. And that had been with army-issue nobody had soaked in brine ahead of time.
He heard someone coming. He swung the beam and caught a barefoot and almost bare chested adelita moving up the slope toward him. She was pointing a carbine his way. He said, “No fuego. It’s me, your OD. How are you called and what do you want?’’
The chesty mestiza said, “I am called Lola. My soldado was posted for to guard this ammo dump. For a moment I feared you were a ladrón, Captain Gringo.’’
He said, “Welcome to the club. How come you, not your soldado, are so alert this evening?’’
Lola smiled crookedly and replied, “He does not carry his own pack either. Some people in this band seem to think rank has its privileges and even a private outranks an adelita.’’
She grounded her carbine and added, “Unlike some I could mention, all of us do not get to choose our soldados. I trust Nopalita is resting well?’’
He frowned and told her, “Watch where you’re skating, Lola. Your leader isn’t kidding about her cactus spines, and I know for a fact she’s stronger than she looks.’’
Lola laughed dirty and said, “One can see she would have to be. You are much bigger than any other man in the outfit.’’
She moved closer, leaned her gun against a crate, and added, “I am strong too. Too strong, and too young, for the fat old soldado they issued me to when my old soldado got shot by the Spaniards. Would you like to feel my muscles, Captain Gringo?’’
He tried to keep it light as he chuckled and said, “A couple of ’em are about ready to pop over the hem of that blouse. I’m sure you have nice muscles all over, Lola. But we’re both on duty, and even if we weren’t, you must know it’s not smart to cause friction in a small band where good will can count for a lot when the chips are down.’’
She moved even closer, thrusting her pelvis against his as she asked, “What trouble can one cause, if one does not shout about it at breakfast, eh? Who are you afraid of, my soldado? He has not the balls to fight either one of us. We would not be hanging horns on him in any case. As I told him, and everyone else, I will carry his pack and pass him ammo in a fight. But I am particular about who I fuck.”
He laughed despite himself and said that seemed obvious as she pinned his butt against a packing crate with her pubic bone, grinding it around in case he missed just what it was through the cloth of his pants and her skirts. He knew she could feel what was going on inside his pants too. So there was no sense lying about it. He said, “Look, I’m sure it would be a lot of fun, Lola. But we’d both be asking for trouble.”
She put her arms up around his neck, flattened her big, soft breasts against him, and asked innocently, “Who is going to tell Nopalita? You?”
He knew the odds were good on the teasing flirt bragging about it to Nopalita herself. More than one had kissed and told on him when he hadn’t even kissed them. On the other hand, hell had no fury like a woman scorned. He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.
Lola reached out to douse the light as she stood on tiptoe to kiss him French style. He decided as long as he was damned, he might as well enjoy it. He scooped her up in his arms and started climbing. Lola gasped, “What are you doing? Where are you taking me, querido?”
He said, “Topside. The pyramid is flat on top as well as ten or twelve feet off the ground.”
She saw he was right as he boosted her atop the big pile of crates. But as he joined her in the dim light, she protested, “I was hoping for pine needles under us. What if I get splinters in my culita?”
He said, “I thought you weren’t afraid of cactus spines. So what’s a few splinters between friends?”
She laughed, told him to wait, and wadded her skirting up to put under her bare behind as she stripped by starlight. He couldn’t see her well enough to tell how great a body she had until he’d stripped too and they were in a much more intimate position. As he entered her, Lola gasped, “Oh, Nombre de Dios, that soft-looking blonde has more courage than I gave her credit for! This is fantástico! Are you sure you are spoken for as her soldado?’’
He found her fantástico too, as she corkscrewed up and down his shaft with her starved love maw. He couldn’t tell if she was naturally tight or was possessed of amazing muscular control all over. He said, “Look, let’s get the rules straight here, Lola. I’m just as bad as you are. So I’m not making any moral judgments about this. But I’m ordering you, as your military superior, not to start up with any other woman in the band about who I may or may not be spoken for, see?’’
She hugged him tighter as she groaned, “Is not fair. She grabbed you for herself before any of us other adelitas even got to flirt with you. It was the same when she grabbed the major that time.’’
He froze atop her and whispered, “¡Silencio!” as he heard someone coming their way or, rather, coming toward the ammo dump as he’d just begun to come his way, on top of it, in her.
It was Nopalita, of all people, and one of the guards. As the naked cheaters above her held their breaths, they heard the guard say, “He was over here with his light just a few moments ago, Capitana. Look, there is the bull’s-eye, where he left it on that box, and over here is a carbine too.’’
Up in the darkness above their heads, Captain Gringo kissed Lola hard, to keep her from giggling louder. It wouldn’t really be all that funny if Nopalita climbed up to join them. He tried to keep Lola’s hips pinned with all his weight as well. The little mestiza was too hot to stop. She was gripping his erection with her vaginal muscles the way a milkmaid grips with her hand, albeit a lot nicer than any hand could ever grip anything. Below, Nopalita was saying, “That is strange. For why would he leave his light and weapon here if he meant for to go far?”
The guard, bless him, suggested, “Perhaps he went for to answer a call to, ah, nature?”
Captain Gringo was coming, despite himself, as he heard Nopalita chuckle demurely and say, “That would explain a certain shyness on h
is part. When you see him, tell him I was looking for him, Suarez. He will know where to find me and ... Listen, what was that?”
Now even Lola managed to be still as the guard told Nopalita he hadn’t heard anything and they heard her say, “I thought I heard the creak of wood above us just now. Do you suppose rats could have gotten into the supplies?”
Suarez said, “I heard nothing. Rats do not chew guns and ammunition, Capitana.”
Nopalita took a few steps away. Then she stopped and told the guard, “Rats do chew grease, however. You had better have a look up there with this bull’s-eye, Suarez. Should a rat chew into a detonating cap, it could become most noisy around here, no?”
Captain Gringo felt just awful, even though Lola was milking the last of his orgasm even as they heard the creak of wood and saw the beam of the spotlight arcing back and forth in the trees above them until Suarez got near the top, boosted himself the last few feet, and hosed their naked bodies head to toe with his beam. As Captain Gringo stared right at him, Suarez gulped, swung the light away, and called down, “Nada, Capitana. No sign of rats, and all the lids seem to be most securely nailed down.”
Captain Gringo didn’t move a muscle until the guard had climbed down and they heard both sets of footsteps moving off. Then he asked Lola, “Okay, why? What’s Suarez to you? I don’t even know the guy!”
The girl under him shrugged and began to move again as she said simply, “He is, like us, an old soldado. Perhaps he, too, does not wish trouble in the camp?”
Captain Gringo said, “I hope that’s all it was. Whatever it was, we owe him, and he knows it. I’m in no position to either screw him or promote him. Let’s hope he knows that too!”
She said, “I hope you do not expect me for to screw him. He is not my type at all. You will protect me if he makes unwelcome advances to me, no?”
He grimaced and said, “No. What about your soldado?”
