“No.”
“No?” Keno replied, surprised by the answer.
“He will not fight him, Coronel, he will kill him.”
Keno thought for a moment, then he smiled and nodded. “Sí, that is what I want. I do not want a fight, I want Jensen killed.”
“Then Rex Kennedy is the man you must hire.”
“This hombre Kennedy . . . he doesn’t expect to be paid before he does the job, does he?” Keno asked.
“I think he will take half now, and half when the job is completed.”
“All right, I will pay half now.”
“What about the others? You’re going to have to have them killed as well.”
“How much will that cost?”
“It will be another five hundred dollars.”
“All right, but that must include the woman as well.”
“Sí.”
“And,” Keno said, holding up his finger, “whatever money you get will have to come out of that fifteen hundred dollars.”
“Sí, entiendo, Coronel.”
As Pena left the meeting with Keno, he could scarcely contain his excitement. He had just doubled the amount of money it would take, which would give him more money than he had ever had at any one time in his entire life. And if Kennedy was successful, that would end the challenge to Keno, which meant he was very likely to mount a successful revolution against the government in Mexico City.
Surely El Presidente Keno would reward him by appointing him governor of the state of Tamaulipas.
Rosita had overheard the entire conversation, and she was frightened by the prospect of someone killing Señor Jensen. She had to warn him, and in order to do that, she must escape.
Rosita had given Keno no trouble for the several days she had been here, having made no attempt to escape. Because her behavior had been so benign, Keno had greatly reduced the security around her. She was able to go to the creek to get water, and even to fish. She moved freely through the encampment and had become so much a part of the operation that it was as if she had just disappeared from sight.
When Rosita initially began making plans, she considered taking one of the horses, but she realized that if she were mounted on a horse she would not be able to leave without being seen. On the other hand she was small enough that she was certain she could slip, unobserved, through the guards at the pass.
Her heart was in her throat as she left the cabin in the middle of the night.
Segundo, Texas
When Rex Kennedy was fifteen years old, his stepfather was killed by a shotgun blast, while sleeping in his bed. It was well known that Kennedy did not get along with his stepfather, and though there were suspicions that he was the one who killed him, there was never enough evidence to bring him to trial.
Kennedy left home when he was nineteen, hooking up with an outlaw gang in San Saba County, Texas, robbing trains and stagecoaches, and often killing their victims in the process. He was quick to use a gun when it suited him, and he had killed several men in saloons when arguments would erupt over whores or poker games.
Killing came easy to him, so easy that he embarked on a career as an assassin, casually proclaiming that he would murder anyone for money. He quickly earned a reputation for getting the job done quickly and efficiently, often by means of a shotgun ambush.
Pena and Tucker found him sitting at a table playing solitaire, in the Vaquero Feliz Saloon. He had just put a black jack on a red queen when he looked to see two men approaching him. Immediately suspicious, he moved his hand to the butt of his pistol as they came closer to the table. Then, recognizing one of the two, he relaxed, and smiled.
“Lou Tucker,” Kennedy said. “It has been a long time.”
“I reckon it has at that,” Tuck said.
Pena noticed that Kennedy had not offered to shake hands, nor had he brought his up where it could be seen.
“What are you doin’ with the Mex? I heard you’d gone to Mexico. You takin’ up ridin’ with ’em now?”
“This feller’s name is Pena. He don’t speak no American, so I’m goin’ to have to speak for him.”
“Speak about what?”
“He wants you to kill someone, ’n’ he’s willin’ to pay for it.”
“This feller he wants kilt. Is he down in Mexico?”
“Yes.”
Kennedy nodded. “Good, that’ll make it a mite easier. I can kill ’im, then come back across the border ’n’ there won’t be nobody up here lookin’ for me. Who is it he wants kilt?”
“You ever heard of a man by the name of Colonel Taurino Bustamante Keno? He is the comandante of the Ejército Mexicano de la Liberación,” Tucker said.
“Keno, yes, I’ve heard of ’im. Big bandido, I hear. Is that the fella the Mex here wants kilt?”
“No, he’s the one that wants you to kill somebody. Pena is just here to arrange it.”
“I make it a point never to talk about business on an empty stomach,” Kennedy said. “It is nearly lunchtime. Come buy me lunch, and you can tell me what you want of me.”
Kennedy waited until the meal had been delivered before he brought up the subject.
“All right, who is it you want me to kill?” Kennedy speared a piece of meat and lifted the fork to his mouth.
“Smoke Jensen,” Tucker said. “He wants you to kill Smoke Jensen.”
The fork didn’t make it to his mouth. Kennedy put the fork back down and looked at Keno.
“The same Smoke Jensen that Rick Isback tried to kill?”
“I heard about that. I also heard that Isback tried to brace him,” Tucker said.
“Qué?” Pena asked, wondering where the conversation was going.
Tucker translated for Pena.
“Was Isback a friend of Kennedy’s?” Pena asked.
“No. Men like him have no friends.”
“But he knew him?”
“Yes, I knew him.”
“Ask Señor Kennedy if this man Isback was good with a gun.”
“He was one of the best,” Kennedy replied when the question was put to him. “A lot better ’n me.”
Again, Tucker translated.
“Oh. Then he does not think he can kill Jensen.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement, and the tone of Pena’s voice reflected his disappointment.
Tucker translated Pena’s statement.
“Do you want me to fight him? Or kill him?” Kennedy asked easily.
“I want you to kill him, señor.”
“I want five hundred dollars.”
Pena smiled. This was working out exactly as he wanted.
At first it was just a thin wisp, looking like nothing more than a column of dust in the distance. But as they drew closer to the little farm, the wisp of dust took on more substance until it became a column of smoke, growing into a thick, heavy, black cloud, filled with glowing embers and roiling into the sky.
The fire was still snapping and popping when Smoke and the others arrived, but there was little left to burn. What had been the house was blackened adobe and charred timbers with just enough fuel left to support the dying flames. In addition to the fires there had been a wanton slaughter of two burros, who lay dead in the corral.
Smoke saw a man facedown in a pool of his own blood. When he went over to get a closer look he saw that the man, who looked to be at least seventy, had been shot several times in the head and chest. He knew, even before he reached him, that he was dead. A woman was lying nearby, also dead.
“What kind of evil son of a bitch can do something like this?” Cal asked.
“Fueron asesinados por Keno,” a voice said.
“Who said that?” Pearlie asked.
“It sounded like a young girl’s voice,” Sally said.
“You are americano?” the voice asked, and looking toward the sound, they did see a young girl, who had been hiding in a narrow gulch that cut through the place.
“Yes, we are Americans,” Smoke said. “Are these your parents?” Then re
alizing they were probably too old to be parents, he glanced at Sally. “Grandparents?”
“Abuelos,” Sally suggested.
The girl understood and shook her head, then she spoke again in English. “They helped me when I escaped. They would not tell where I was, so Keno and the others with him, shot them.”
“When you escaped? Are you Rosita Salinas?”
“Sí. You have heard of me?”
“Yes, your papa told us about you, and we have been looking for you.”
For the first time, the little girl smiled. “I was right! I knew Papa would send a knight in shining armor to rescue me!”
“I’d hardly call myself a knight in shining armor.”
“You are the one called Smoke Jensen?”
Smoke was shocked to hear the girl say his name.
“Yes. How did you know that?”
“I know,” she said without further explanation.
Chapter Thirty-four
“Señor Jensen, Keno is going to pay a bad man to kill you,” Rosita said. “I got away so I could warn you.”
“Well, thank you, child, I appreciate that,” Smoke said.
“The bad man’s name is Rex Kennedy.”
“Kennedy?” Old Mo said.
“Do you know Kennedy, Mo?” Pearlie asked.
“Yeah, I know him.”
“How well do you know him?” Smoke asked.
“I rode with him for a while.”
“You know him and you know Smoke,” Cal said. “Come on, do you really think Smoke has to worry about someone named Rex Kennedy? I mean if he was that good with a gun, don’t you think someone would have heard of him?”
“How good do you have to be with a gun if you step up behind someone with a shotgun and blow their brains out?” Old Mo asked.
“But if he isn’t nearly as good as Smoke . . .”
“Cal, when are you going to learn that being good with a gun is only a small part of it. The biggest part is being willing to kill a man and think no more about it than you would about stepping on a cockroach.”
“Kennedy is that kind of a man, is he?”
“Yeah, he’s that kind of a man. Little girl, are you sure the name you heard was Kennedy? Rex Kennedy?” Old Mo asked.
“Sí. I heard Señor Keno speaking with Señor Pena. Señor Pena said he would get Señor Kennedy to kill Señor Jensen.”
“Pena,” Cal said. “That’s the man from town.”
“Yes, and Señorita Delgado warned us about him,” Smoke said.
“I wonder what Kennedy plans to do about the rest of us?” Pearlie said. “Surely he doesn’t think we are just going to sit by and let this happen, without doing anything about it.”
“He plans to shoot you as well,” Rosita said. “And you too, señora. He plans to shoot all of you.”
“Well, he’s not going to do it, because you came and told us about him,” Smoke said. “That was very brave of you. And since you told us about him, it means we have the advantage. Fore . . . fore-something. Sally, what is that saying about being warned means you are armed?”
“Forewarned is forearmed,” Sally said.
Smoke chuckled. “Sometimes it’s good to be married to a schoolteacher.”
“Smoke, what are we going to do about Rosita?” Sally asked. “You saw what Keno’s men did to those poor people who helped her. If she goes home, I fear they will go there, and harm not only her, but her entire family.”
“We’ll keep her with us for a while,” Smoke said.
“With us? Out here, in the wild, so to speak?”
“No. We’re going back to Cruillas. You can stay with her in the house.”
“I want to come with you,” Sally complained.
“Sally, please,” Smoke said. “You would be a lot more helpful to me if you would just watch out for the girl.”
Sally nodded. “I’m sorry, of course I would. Please forgive me.”
“Forgive you for what? For wanting to be with me? Don’t be ridiculous. But, in this case . . .” Smoke let the words string out, then fade away.
“I know, sweetheart. I’ll take really good care of her.”
Rosita had watched and listened to the exchange between Smoke and Sally, and though she didn’t follow it as closely as she wished she could, she was able to assume from the conversation that they were talking about her.
Then Smoke turned to her.
“You did say that Keno spoke with Pena, didn’t you?”
“Sí, señor.”
Smoke smiled. “That’s good to know. It has given me an idea as to how best to handle this thing.”
“What have you got in mind, Smoke?” Cal asked.
“I plan to set up a little trap for our friend Kennedy.”
“Sí,” Leticia said after Smoke approached her. “I will speak to Pena for you. He was gone from town for a few days. I don’t know where he went, but I know that he is back.”
“Ask him to meet me here, at your place, so you can talk for us.”
When Pena came into the store a while later, Smoke could see by the expression on his face and the look in his eyes that he was a little suspicious.
“Señor Pena,” Smoke said with a broad smile and an extended hand. “Thank you for coming to see me.”
Leticia translated for them.
“He wants to know why you wish to see him.”
“The last time we spoke he gave me some very good information. I was wondering if he had any other good information for me. Perhaps a suggestion as to where I might go, so I could wait, and maybe see some more of Keno’s men.”
As Leticia translated the comment, Smoke knew at once that Pena had taken the bait. He saw the expression in Pena’s eyes change from curiosity to conquest. He was being given the perfect opportunity to set Smoke up for Kennedy. He was so sure of himself that it never dawned on him that he may be the one who was being set up.
“Sí, sí!” he said. “I will find just such a place for you.”
“Gracias, señor, muy gracias,” Smoke said, sticking his hand out to grasp Pena’s. Pena could barely keep the smile off his face as he left the store.
“Señor Jensen, I am worried,” Leticia said. “I do not trust Pena. Please, be very careful when you go to the place he will say.”
“Señorita, I appreciate your help, and your concern,” Smoke said. “And I promise you, I will be very much on my toes when I go there.”
Pena came back the next day with a location, which he pointed out on a map, again speaking through Leticia Delgado.
“It is called Lugar de las Serpientes. That means Place of the Snakes,” Leticia Delgado said. “Pena says that Keno will send some of his men through this place at four o’clock today.”
“Four o’clock?”
“Las cuatro en punto?” Leticia Delgado asked.
“Sí, las cuatro en punto,” Pena replied.
Smoke didn’t need any further translation. “That’s pretty specific, isn’t it? Almost as if he is arranging a meeting.”
“Sí, señor. Please, be very careful,” Leticia said.
As Pena left the notions shop, he saw Señora Jensen going into Mama Maria’s café. That in itself wouldn’t have gotten his attention, he knew that the Americans had been taking their meals there. What did get his attention though, was the young girl who was with her. He was sure this was Rosita, the same girl he had seen with Keno. What was she doing here? Did Keno know she was here?
Pena smiled. This would be more information he would provide Keno, and for this information he would charge nothing. He was making enough money from arranging for Kennedy to kill Jensen that he didn’t need any more right away. What he needed now was for Keno to be obligated to him, so obligated that he would remember, and reward him, after the revolution.
As soon as he told Kennedy where to go, he planned to ride out to Keno’s encampment and tell him about the girl.
After meeting with Pena, Smoke went to Sheriff Rivas’s office to find out
what he could about the Place of the Snakes.
“It is an evil place, señor. Why would you wish to go there?”
“I am just curious about it. Is it a way to pass through the Sierra Veinte Casas mountains?”
“No, señor, it goes into the mountains, but it does not come out. It is a dead end.”
Smoke smiled. “Thank you, Sheriff.”
Lugar de las Serpientes
Leaving the sheriff’s office, Smoke went directly to the Place of the Snakes. A narrow, twisting gorge, it was obvious as soon as Smoke saw it that this was an ideal place to set up an ambush. Dismounting, Smoke ground-hobbled Seven, then he started into the ravine which was flanked on both sides with jagged walls. The rift twisted and changed directions so frequently that there was no part of it that continued in a straight line for more than a hundred feet or so.
It had been Smoke’s plan to be here before Kennedy, but he had underestimated Kennedy’s acumen as an assassin. Kennedy was here first and to Smoke’s surprise, Kennedy suddenly appeared in front of him, stepping out into the middle of the gulley with a double-barreled shotgun in his hands.
Luckily, Smoke had just stepped around a bulging rock formation in the side of the wall, and reacting quickly, faster even than Kennedy could pull the trigger on the shotgun, he jumped behind it.
The shotgun roared, and the heavy load of buckshot ripped out chunks of rock where, but an instant earlier, Smoke had been walking.
Smoke didn’t know whether or not Kennedy had pulled both triggers at the same time, but he knew that he couldn’t take a chance. So rather than stepping back out to show himself, Smoke got down on his knees, then did a somersault back out into the middle of the ravine. As he somersaulted, he fired at Kennedy, who, with a barrel left, shot back. Most of the shot went over Smoke, though he felt the sting of a couple of pellets in his leg.
Because he had fired from a very awkward position, Smoke had missed, though he had managed to hurry Kennedy’s shot. Now, as Smoke was regaining his feet, Kennedy was pulling his own pistol, and he managed to get a shot off at the same time Smoke fired a second time.
Terror of the Mountain Man Page 25
