by Chris Pike
“I would have never guessed it,” Nico said. He finished threading the last magazine pouch Virgil gave him onto his belt then plucked out a magazine and popped out a round. “This is Cor-Bon. You like the good stuff. Many thanks!”
“Glad you like it. Guess money’s no good anymore, so you’ll just have to save my life someday to make it even.”
Nico was uncertain if Virgil was serious or only kidding. It took time to get to know a person, but from first impressions, Virgil was a stand up guy.
“Here’s the little extra I promised. It’ll use the same magazines you have on your belt.” Virgil handed Nico an item wrapped in cloth.
Taking it, Nico suspected what it was by the weight and feel of it. Carefully, Nico unwrapped the item to find a loaded Glock 26, 9mm, in a DeSantis pocket holster. Christmas had come early. The Glock 26 was surprisingly accurate despite its size. Nico placed the holstered Glock into his front left pocket. It was a tight fit, but he could draw it quickly if he needed to in an emergency.
Kate had been standing to the side with Dan, watching the entire transaction. She was quite comfortable around guns, having grown up shooting with her dad and brothers, yet she didn’t have a good feeling about any of this.
“Let me come with you,” Kate pleaded.
“No, Kate. We’ve already gone over this,” Nico said.
Kate’s shoulders shrunk down at the thought she’d be left behind.
“You stay here with Dan.”
“I can’t stay,” Dan said. “I told my wife I’d come home. I’ve done what I can for the hotel. All the guests have left except for you two and the Tombstone guys. There’s really nothing left for me to do.”
“You got kids?” Nico asked.
“I do.”
“Then you need to go to them. Don’t waste any time and don’t make any excuses for what you need to do. We all understand. You’ve already gone above and beyond what any hotel manager would’ve done in a situation like this.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” Dan turned to Kate. “I have to leave now.”
“I know. It’s okay.”
“Good luck to you, Nico.” Dan extended a hand. Nico grasped it, gave him a firm handshake, and patted him on the shoulder. Without another word, Dan slipped out of the hotel and disappeared along the sidewalk.
“You and Virgil better get going,” Kate said. She turned away, afraid her expression would betray her thoughts. The last thing she wanted to do was to distract Nico. She called Reload, who was sniffing a potted plant for some reason. He loped over to her and waited for instruction. Kate scratched him on the head and said, “Come.” They left the lobby and headed to the front desk.
* * *
Standing at the front desk, now deemed the “Ready” table set up for anyone who needed to grab a few loaded magazines in an emergency, Kate removed a sheet placed on top, folded it, and set it aside. Morgan had the idea for magazine resupply so he commandeered the marble check-in desk, filling it with fully loaded AR-15, SIG, Glock, 1911, and a few CZ magazines.
She scanned the table and picked up three Glock 17 magazines, tested their combined weight, then placed them in the left pocket of Reload’s service dog vest. She tilted a long 40 round Magpul Pmag into the right side pocket for balance.
She patted Reload on the head. “Now you’ll live up to your name.” The big dog started to roll his body from side to side like he was shaking water off from a bath, but Kate put her hands on his sides to prevent him. “No,” she said firmly. “You’ll get used to it.”
Kate checked her own Glock 19, a mid-sized fifteen plus one round 9mm pistol that used the slightly longer seventeen round magazines of the Glock 17 as well as the less common thirty-three round Glock 18 magazines. Interchangeability of magazines between the three was an added bonus to the Glocks.
Virgil and Nico headed to the hotel bar then exited the side door, which led to the street facing the south side of the Alamo. They crossed the empty street and traversed the stone steps leading to the Alamo Plaza. The walkway ahead of them contained various tourist shops peddling clothes and other wares, including a place for the well-heeled to rent Segways. Beyond was the Hyatt where their plan would take them to the Riverwalk level mini-mall.
“Hyatt Trade Fair” was crudely painted in large capital letters on the faux stone walls. The “No Long Guns” warning had been spray painted in big black letters on the face of a mural, destroying its beauty. Whoever painted the signs had no respect for art, property, or the law, and probably didn’t think before acting, resulting in Nico’s resolve to act decisively increasing a few notches.
Stepping away from the street, they came to the stairs leading down to the Riverwalk level. A voluminous amount of water cascaded over several concrete steps, emptying into a larger concrete pool located below street level. The water was then channeled to the Hyatt before being recycled. Tables had been placed curbside so tourists could have a leisurely meal or beverage. Planters, formerly decorated with ferns, now showed the first growth of vegetables.
Nico took in the pleasant smell of clean water, a definite improvement over the foul looking Riverwalk water in the canal. Both men nodded to each other in an approving way. This was the water they needed.
Nico and Virgil navigated the stairs adjacent to the cascading water, then headed to the mini-mall below the Hyatt.
They stopped short of the glass wall and doors, noting the Hyatt men were heavily armed, including with the long guns Nico and Virgil were prohibited from carrying.
Nico made one last remark before he opened the glass door. “If things go bad, I’ll handle the left and you handle the right.”
Virgil gave a slight nod, indicating he understood.
* * *
A large man leaning against a wall watched Nico and Virgil enter through the doors. He took a last drag of a cigarette, tossed it to the floor, then rubbed it out. At first look, the guy appeared to be a teenager, but on closer inspection he had a hardened expression of a man who had seen and done things…bad things.
Nico didn’t take his eyes off him for one second.
It became a duel of matching of eye contact to determine who would back down first, and while Nico never backed down from a challenge, he decided to let the other guy feel like he was in control. Nico casually flicked his eyes in another direction.
“I’m Manuel. You here to trade?”
“We are,” Nico confirmed. “We saw your signs and are interested in the water.” In the moment the seedy-looking guy digested the information, Nico was mentally running through scenarios on how he would handle Manuel if the situation required it. The Cold Steel Tanto on his belt indicated Manuel was the kind of guy who could handle knives deftly.
Nico was on full alert.
There were three more men to the left and four men on the right. They were armed with military styled weapons such as AR-15s, AKs, and Galils. Manuel appeared to be armed with twin .44 Magnum revolvers.
“Come on over,” Manuel said, disarmingly pleasant.
Nico and Virgil took a few steps toward the table while keeping an eye open on the rest of the thugs.
Virgil placed a package on the table, opened it up, and handed a Photon light to Manuel. “Squeeze the top button towards the bottom.”
“I’m not stupid. I know what these things are.” Manuel roughly grabbed the light.
Virgil flicked a quick glance at Nico.
Manuel tried out the light. “I’ve seen better.”
Nico said nothing, recognizing the guy was posturing for a better deal. “Here, take a few more.”
Manuel passed the lights to his men who played around with the new toys, shining the blinding beam into each other’s eyes until he said, “Enough!”
Nico started his pitch. “These lights use lithium batteries so they’ll last ten to twelve years. It’s also possible to replace the batteries by—”
“I’ve heard enough,” Manuel said, cutting off Nico. “What do you want for th
em?”
“I need access to the water without being harassed. I’ll trade—”
“I make the deals here, not you. And I also run the Hyatt. I’ll give you two gallons of water for all your lights. And I want your pistols too.”
Nico took a step forward. “Those aren’t for trade. The lights are for trade. Each one is valuable and worth more than gold.”
“Gold?” Manuel said laughing, exposing a broken tooth, probably a casualty of a fight. He held a hand up and gestured with it. He had been studying the occupants of the Minor Hotel for some time and had planned for attack if the occupants looked weak. Severe need for water indicated the best time for attack.
Thirty armed Hyatt soldiers stationed outside the building next to the river snapped to attention when Manuel signaled them.
Nico’s instinct kicked in and he took a step back. Virgil mirrored his movements as he observed an army of men by the river ready themselves for some kind of attack.
Chapter 23
After Nico and Virgil exited the Minor Hotel, Kate had scrambled to a ledge hidden by trees at the Alamo Plaza. Safely hidden, she used binoculars to track Nico and Virgil walking to the place designated as the trading area.
Scanning the area in front of the men, a man standing in the shadows came into focus. What was he doing there? Was he a lookout or something else? Kate scrutinized him through the binoculars and when he turned around, she jerked back. He appeared to be looking straight through her. Instinctively, she ducked, trying to comprehend his face. She furrowed her brow and flashes of memories came to her.
The scream, the shot, the blood.
She couldn’t be wrong. But maybe she was. She had to be sure. She peeked her head above the ledge and took another look through the binoculars.
Even at the long distance, her gaze went directly to the scar.
That scar.
The one she couldn’t forget. The one burned into her memory on that fateful day.
For a moment she froze, captured by the helpless feeling and memories, and how those memories had been a scourge on her life. At first she wanted to flee, captured by the flight response of fight or flight. She wanted to get far away from here and from the man, but something washed over her, a powerful force which activated the fight response.
Damn him! From this moment on, she was determined not to be the gazelle. She was the leopard now and he was the prey.
It was an empowering feeling, and she embraced it completely.
Instead of fleeing for her own safety, she thought of Nico and what he had gone through to come back to her. He would expect her to act accordingly.
The man was still standing in the shadows so Kate swiveled the binoculars to where Nico was.
With steadfast fortitude, she steadied her gaze, intent on observing so she could help Nico. His life would depend on it.
She tracked back to where the man with the scar had last been. He wasn’t there! She scanned the area looking for him. He must have slipped away. She turned her attention back to Nico and Virgil.
While she couldn’t hear the conversation, she inferred from body language the trade was not going as planned. She observed the subtle gesture the leader made, and saw two rifle-carrying snipers appear on the rooftops adjacent to the walkway leading to the Hyatt.
Kate eased off the ledge and ran low to the ground, keeping close to the Alamo side. She dashed across the street, hugged the wall of the Minor Hotel, then slunk around the corner until she was at the main entrance. Rushing through the revolving door, she quickly got the attention of Johnny Ringo and Doc, who were sitting in the lobby near the front desk.
Breathless, Kate blurted, “Nico and Virgil are in trouble. They are in danger of being rushed by a small army and are about to be ambushed by snipers.”
Johnny rocketed up like an Army officer. He snapped out an order. “Weapons hot. We’ll have full discretion.”
Like true riflemen, Johnny and Doc had their rifles with them.
“On it now!” Doc yelled.
Johnny carried a five shot bolt action Remington Model 700 heavy barrel .308 with a Leupold scope. Doc used a Les Baer Target AR in 5.56 with a Nightforce scope. For his rifle, Johnny used 168 grain Federal 308M while Doc used Black Hills 77 grain Open Tip Match. Both of their guns used Sierra MatchKing bullets.
“Kate,” Johnny said, “I have an extra AR-15. Take it. Do you know how to use it?”
Kate nodded.
“For a good hit from your position, raise the reticle up to the second crosshair and fire.”
“Thanks,” Kate said. She slung the rifle over her shoulder.
The two men sprinted to positions on the short wall of planters on the Alamo Plaza. They had good cover, although they would have to use a sitting shooting position to best utilize it. They decided to wait for some sign Nico and Virgil were exiting the building before making their shots. An early shot might cause the Hyatts to put more men on the roof.
Kate sprinted down the hallway and headed to the bar where she asked Morgan to tell everyone to get ready for a major attack. Morgan quickly gathered the men, assigning them to defensive positions in preparation for an attack.
“In case of a prolonged attack, be sure to get extra food and water. Ammo too!” Kate yelled. “We don’t know how long this will take. It’s better to have extra than not enough.”
The Tombstones filled their magazines and put packs together to prepare for an evacuation. Morgan filled a large duffel bag with freeze dried meals, bottled water, gun oil, magazines, Ka-Bar knives, and ammunition in order to meet the needs of Nico and Virgil if they made it back. This duffel had rollers so he could move it himself with one hand if needed. He got two men to carry extra rifles for Nico and Virgil.
* * *
The sun beat down in soaring temperatures on the two Hyatt snipers positioned on the roof, which acted like a conductor for the sun, and shimmering heatwaves danced their misery on the roof. Unprepared for the heat, sweat stained the snipers’ shirts and stung their eyes. Thirst became a problem and a distraction for the two men, both unaware Tombstone snipers had been assigned to punch their tickets.
While waiting, Johnny Ringo’s mind started to wander. He wasn’t a real sniper, rather someone who had won more than his share of NRA rifle matches. A one hundred and ten yard shot would be ridiculously easy for a man with his marksmanship ability, so worry about missing did not enter his mind. For Johnny, time passed agonizingly slowly, especially since his legs were cramping, and he silently cursed himself for being too zealous over conserving water. He licked his parched lips.
Positioned next to Johnny, Doc was thinking about the shot and how it could go wrong. His mind raced with different scenarios of potential last minute problems, including the arrival of more snipers, or his targeted sniper moving to a position with more cover. Doc had prepared with thirty rounds of the best ammunition available for his quick firing semi-automatic action, allowing him to help Johnny if he became overwhelmed with additional targets.
* * *
Nico had to come up with a plan fast. The Hyatt men on each side were positioned to take out Nico and Virgil without endangering Manuel with their fire. Nico decided to reset the table.
“Manuel,” Nico said, “we’ll take you up on your offer. Shall we put everything over here on the table?” He moved toward it, not waiting for Manuel to answer.
Virgil stepped inward with Nico.
Manuel was dumbstruck at the ease in which Nico had accepted his deal. “Lightweights,” he muttered under his breath. His men swung their rifles, following Nico and Virgil, not realizing they and Manuel were now in a crossfire situation.
“Stop!” Manuel yelled. “Don’t you idiots know what you’re doing?”
His men came to stiff attention, waiting for the next order from Manuel. They were essentially frozen in confusion.
Nico recognized adding to his enemy’s reaction time could give him a decisive advantage. Without any further hesitation, he dre
w both his guns, brought them up, and bullets started to fly. Virgil followed suit and drew both his SIG P220s.
Manuel regretted his previous choice of words and the blind obedience of his men taught to act on command instead of by their own volition as they were now taking fire.
“Kill them!” Manuel ordered.
Most gunfights were won or lost based on a half second of time. Virgil and Nico had the advantage of the slight lead. Manuel’s men had all taken at least one hit, and they pulled triggers wildly in a futile effort to hit their targets. Caught in the crossfire, several of the Hyatt men went down.
Nico yelled, “Head shots!” In the melee and confusion, tunnel vision took over. Nico carefully aimed at each of his targets, taking a mere second or less to sight the opposition with his gun.
Before Manuel could pull the trigger on his Smith & Wesson .44 Magnums, he took a 9mm round between the eyes. He crumpled to the floor.
Standing over the big man, Nico said, “No matter how much muscle you have, your skull is till the same thickness as everyone else’s.”
“I got four of them with my .45s,” Virgil said.
“The big guy counts as two,” Nico said. He stopped to collect the .44s and the shoulder holsters. “These are some of my favorites.”
Nico and Virgil had to leave quickly before reinforcements came. With their packs on, they turned their attention to the rifles of the fallen guards, several of which were damaged in the crossfire. Virgil found an AR-15 clone with holes in the handguard, but otherwise fully functional. Nico collected the only remaining functional rifle, a Galil ARM. It looked like a well-built milled AK-47, firing 5.56 ammo and had a bipod in its forearm.
Virgil’s ears picked up sounds that were getting closer. “We’ve been made. Hurry!” Virgil and Nico adjusted the combat slings and opened the glass doors. They looked around cautiously, moving slowly into the outdoors. It was quiet. Too quiet.
